Pink and Red
by Aragem
Summary: Sorry for the long absence. College, RL, and depression got in the way, but I'm back. Also the chapters int his fic are going to be rewritten one by one. So don't expect any updates until it is complete.
1. Baseball Bat

Living in south Alabama was hot, especially when you were living in trailer without AC in the middle of the woods in a very rural community.

Margery reclined back on a dirty lounge chair letting a small white fan sitting on a cluttered table. Her usual black sweat jacket was open revealing the white t-shirt underneath. Her long black sweat pants waved loosely around thin legs. Her dark hair clung about her pale face, from lack of sun, and several strands blew loosely about her face.

Why was she wearing long sleeves and long pants in this heat? Because she hated touching things, goddammit.

She curled her toes inside her thick wooly socks, socks that no one would wear in this heat if they could help it.

She lifted her head when she heard the familiar sound of tires crunching soil and dry grass outside. Damn, fucking kids. They were always coming to spray paint the words: witch, freak, psycho, trailer trash, and sometimes bitch on her trailer. There should be a time in kids' lives that they should have their knee caps removed so they couldn't get around much. Last time they threw rocks through her windows, which were now covered with duct tape and newspapers . . . and the damn trailer was still hot.

This time she was ready.

Her hands were already covered in lightly powered latex gloves, but she pulled on woolen gloves over them anyway. She reached over and grabbed a metal bat with duct tape wrapped heavily around the handle. She slipped her wool covered feet into almost too big work boots.

She waded through the piles of trash that accumulated on the floor: pizza boxes, paper plates, cups, plastic eating utensils, newspapers, rolls of duct tape, and used gloves. She leaned against the door where there was a small peephole she had made in the newspaper covering of the small window beside the door.

She waited listening for any hushed laughter or feet crunching in the dry dirt. She concluded they that must have quickly gotten out when they parked. She took a chance and peeked through the hole.

It was hard to see at first, but she could faintly make out a car several yards away. She didn't have any outside lights around the outside for that the bulbs had long gone out and she saw no use in buying more. She couldn't see any movement outside. They must be out in the woods getting rocks to throw.

She stepped out into the humid night air, pulling her sweat jacket's hood up and over her head, not to block out any chill that was not there at all, but to keep a barrier between her bare face and the outside word. She hated touching things with a passion . . . it was only when she was high that she didn't mind too much.

She stepped uneasily across the dry grass. It had been almost three weeks since she set foot outside her trailer. The crickets singing sounded strange outside her trailer walls. As she came closer to the car, she noticed its coloring. It had the most awful colors she had ever seen.

It consisted of two colors. A lime green mixed with a color she couldn't decide whether it was brown, orange, or dark red. It made her think of dog shit. They twisted with each other in whorls as if it was some sort of hippie's peace van. It would really look the part if it had a peace sign painted on the side.

She stared at it and decided that she would be doing whoever owned this car a favor.

She raised the metal bat and brought it crashing down on the windshield. A webbing of cracks bloomed from the impact with a cracking smack. She raised the bat again and slammed it down on the hood leaving a long and shallow dent. She lifted it for a third bash, waiting to hear angry yells or the car's alarm to start blaring.

None of these things happen.

As the shaft of the bat banged on the hood again, the car shifted and seemed to leap away from her. It unfolded, metal moving against metal, arms, legs unfolding and stretching out. And then a head with glaring blue-green orbs glowed at her from a dark face far above her.

"What in the Pit was THAT for?" The metallic giant yelled at her with a voice that sounded as if it was coming from speakers. "You BETTER run!" It called after her as she dashed for the trailer, her jacket flapping behind her.

She nearly tripped on the black metal steps, but recovered by hauling herself up by the door wrench. Her heart skipped a beat when she heard loud booming footsteps of doom behind her. She wrenched the door and dashed inside before it was completely opened, banging her shoulder hard. She didn't notice the pain until after she slammed the door shut and locked it.

Fuck it all too fucking hell. If the trailer couldn't handle tornado, it sure as hell wasn't going to stand up against Mt. Pissed Off outside. There was only one thing to so.

It was stupid; she realized later when she thought about this later. She blamed the fear clouding her head and that she was hoping that this was all a drug dream.

"Hey! Get back out here! Hey, I know you're in there! Turning off the lights and lying on the floor doesn't mean I forget seeing you run in there!"

The trailer shook as it was tapped by the metal monster looming over it. Margery, stretched out on the floor, held her breath fearing that the ceiling would collapse on her and the pizza boxes.

A large black finger poked through the newspaper covering ripping through the paper.

Thankfully the window was too small for his hand to reach through for her. Glowing twin shades of aqua glared at her through the torn hole, bathing the inside of the trailer with aqua green.

"Go away!" She yelled from the floor. "I thought you belong . . . I thought ya were someone else."

"You attack me and then run away! How are you going to fix this? Huh? My front is SMASHED!" On his chest were the dented hood and a smashed windshield.

"Shit." She hissed and crawled through the piles of trash on the floor toward the small kitchen area of the trailer. She sat up against the counter cabinets and yanked open a drawer and took out a battered envelope full of money. She pulled out two fifties and put the rest back in the drawer.

"What are you doing?" The metal giant demanded watching her through another window he tore open to keep an 'eye' on her.

Margery shoved herself to her feet and walked to the opening. She noticed he stepped back away as if to give her room to speak and she tossed the two bills out the window. "Here! Just take it and leave, dammit!"

The transformer watched the two green slips of paper float to the ground. "What is this?"

"Money! Okay, money! One hundred and that's all yer gettin'. You were trespassin'!" Her voice was shrill. Was this one of those Autobots? Fuck, was she going back to jail? Fuck that, if she was going, this metal sonuvbitch was going down for trespassing too.

"I didn't see a SIGN!"

"BULLSHIT! Margery screech thrusting open palmed hands at the window getting frustrated along with scared shitless and pissed off. "There are signs down the damn road!"

"They say beware of dog! Where's the dog? You deactivate it with your weapon?" The metal thing spat.

"There isn't any dog, you stupid fuck!" She screeched and backed up toward the kitchen.

"So you're a liar also!"

"Get off my property!" She yelled bumping into the stove. If this was a drug dream, then she wasn't taking this shit no more.

"Make me!"

A skillet, with molding food clinging to its surface, sailed through the window and smashed into the windshield on his chest, shattering it. Shining glass clattered down his chest and rained on the grass below. The transformers stared in horror at his chest and yelled, "You just deactivated yourself!"

He reached out to grab the trailer. To flip it over, shake it, or just throw across the clearing, he didn't know, because he never had a chance to do anything to it.

"Touch my trailer, motherfucker. I'll call the damn cops and they'll call the government, and they'll call the Autobots."

He froze in mid grab. He looked as if he was weighing what she said and then relaxed his arms from a position of "smashing the trailer to bits" to "hey now, let's be friends". He relaxed the angry glare from his faceplate and grinned in a mock way of friendliness. He stepped back away from the trailer with hands up showing he no longer meant any harm. "Now, let's not do this. You don't want to call. . ."

"Hello, police . . . this is Margery Kayla I have this trespasser on my property taller than my trailer and made of metal and he needs his metal ass kicked. Send the Autobots to . . ."

"I'm going! Okay, look transforming. . ." He transformed, folding down to his alt-mode. ". . . and leaving." The car wheeled around and started to roll away from the trailer. It halted, paused for a few seconds, and the car said, "I'm Crash."

Margery, who had pretended to be on the phone, hung it up. She crept to the window. "Are you one of those . . . Decepticons?"

"Naw, those guys scare the oil outta me."

"You're scared of the Autobots." She pointed out.

"I don't want those guys mad at me either."

There were more seconds of silence. Then Margery broke it and said, "I thought you were leaving."

"I'm waiting for you to tell me your name. That is if you flesh creatures identify each other by name. Or do you go by scent?"

"You don't need to know my name to leave..."

There was another moment of silence. Before Margery could go to the phone and either pretend to call the police or really call them, he spoke.

"Just don't tell anyone I was here, okay?" Crash pleaded. "It's really important that neither the Autobots nor Decepticons know I'm here."

"I won't if you just go away."

"Fine." The car rolled away from the trailer and then vanished through the darkness lining the trees. She watched where it disappeared and held her breath. The sound of the tires crushing the dry grass and the engine running gently touched her ears. Then it faded away and the throb of silence and the steady pulse of crickets replaced it.

She released her breath and wondered if all of that had really happened.

* * *

She didn't sleep. She sat on the floor and breathed through her mouth. Did that happen? She looked up and would see the torn newspaper coverings on the windows from where Crash . . . no . . . the robot had poked his finger through.

She didn't bother turning on the lights. It was better in the dark anyway, if she wasn't moving around much and trip and break her neck over a goddamn pile of trash. She turned the lights back on.

Had it all been a hallucination from shooting up?

No, she didn't shoot up last night. Though she had smoked a joint earlier, it wasn't enough to make her see a giant pissed off robot. Was it?

She rubbed her face. Only one way to find out. Go outside and see if the bat, the broken glass, and the money were outside. But first she needed something to help her calm down.

She scooted over to the tattered couch against the wall in front of a small television. She slipped a hand underneath it, brushing aside an empty coke can and pulled out a small bag. Inside was a small casing of heroin and a syringe.

* * *

Stupid slagging fleshie.

He trundled through the darkness, the trees appearing as specters in his headlights. Cool air touched his interior and made his coolant crawl. He couldn't repair himself. One, he knew scrap about anatomy. Two, he didn't have any parts.

Stupid, stupid, slaggity slagging fleshie glitch.

He had only wanted to get his first glimpse of a human . . . in fact, his first glimpse of an organic. He had expected fear, curiosity, maybe, hopefully, worship, but not an outright attack. He should have picked up the dwelling and chucked it over the trees with it inside.

He arrived at his skiff which had been tucked within a particular thick area of vines beside a small pond. He had made sure to spread the organic green clingy stuff all over his skiff for camouflage before exploring. The skiff had seen better days. It was dented and scratched, but it still flew and got him from place to place when he needed.

He transformed and winced as he lightly traced the edge of the window on his chest. At least the damage wasn't severe or kept him from transforming. That was a scary thought right there, not being able to transform into robot mode and no medic around to help. The main concern was that if it rain, the water would definitely get into his interior and inside him when he transformed. He wasn't sure whether the liquid would damage his insides, but he wasn't willing to find out. What he could so was put some covering over the glass.

He's worry about that later, right now he needed to recharge. He slipped inside and switched on the security lock behind him. The skiff was small, but there was space enough for him alone. He went to the back where he recharged and just relaxed when he had nothing to do.

He dimmed the lights, switched on a radio accepter on a shelf at his elbow, and half listened to the local news of the area. His receptors were alert for any mention of Autobots and/or Decepticons. Robots, giant mechs, and other variations would have caught his attention as well. He tossed himself backwards onto the recharge table. He stared up at the ceiling; if he was human he would have taken a deep breath.

Crash wasn't exactly the most attractive looking Transformer. It wasn't that his creator created him unattractive, but it was from lack of care. He had, in a human sense of the phrase, let himself go. His paintjob was scratched and chipped along his arms and legs. On his left arm, from his elbow to his wrist, there was no paint at all in a long line. His metal 'skin' was scuffed and dull from lack of polish and care.

He had chosen very dull colors for his paint job, brown and dull green which meshed against each other in whorls. Only attraction that could be found was his optics. They were aqua green, a very pale and soothing color which did not match his paintjob at all. They seemed very out of place and they remained after having his paintjob redesigned so long ago.

He thought back to his first encounter of the organic kind and couldn't help but feel a thread of hurt and anger with the human. It had hurt when it had whapped his hood. Maybe he will go back there tomorrow and stomp the dwelling into satisfying pieces. No, if he did that then it would be on the local news and the other Transformers will know that there was a new one on the planet.

He rolled onto his side and reached down the side of the table. He pressed a switch and a panel flipped open revealing a small compartment. He reached in and withdrew a small energon cube and a small device.

He nursed from the cube carefully. He had to hold himself back from gulping it completely. It's been a while since he had been fully energized and it was taking a toll on him. He took one last sip before setting the half empty cube back into its compartment under the table. He turned his attention to the device.

It resembled a human syringe except it was created from metal and long tube like end was round. It held a blue like substance inside that almost glowed in the dimmed room. He sat up and held the rounded end against his left optic. He slipped a finger into the round trigger on the other end. The round end pressed against his optic and pulled the trigger. There was a small hiss as air was released and the fluid was force along causing small electrical surges rushed into the small edges around his optic. The fluid streamed through the tiny gap between his optic glass and the edges of his faceplate.

He set the device down on the berth near his hip and lolled his head back as the liquid did its work. It rushed through the insides of his cranium causing pleasurable pulses and his aqua eyes glowed icy blue for several seconds, before darkening to a dull green and then lighting back up to aqua. The juice glided down downwards through his body sending shocking sparks of euphoria through him.

He had taken the equivalent of human heroin.

He shifted back onto the recharge table and let the pleasant shocks glide along his inner workings.

Fifteen miles away, a human was lying on the floor enjoying the warmth flushing her across her skin.

Both took long sighs of pleasure as their sweet poison spread through the web of fuel lines and blood veins. It was macabre of pink energon and red blood flowing, no longer the purpose of life, but of delivering death.


	2. Get In

A few notes I want to make. There is drug use in this fic, but I am not encouraging the use of drugs. I'm writing this fic from the view of the charactersand their feelings towards drugs.

* * *

She lifted her head and winced from a headache creeping through her temples. She sat up and groaned that she had once again spent the night on the floor. She got to her feet feeling the stiffness in her legs, shoulders, and back. Damn, she was sore.

She walked stiffly to the bathroom, kicking garbage across the floor. She got into her teeny tiny bathroom. There was enough room was a toilet and a sink. When she bathed, she sponge bathed. The toilet had a shit ring and the sink had mildew festering around the drain. She opened the cracked mirror cabinet over the sink and got out liquid gel Tylenol bottle. She fumbled with it. It was hard to open with gloves on.

"Fuck!" She hissed and set the bottle down. She slipped off the gloves and managed to open it with her latex gloves on. She popped three into her mouth and held them under her tongue until her mouth collected enough saliva for her to swallow them. She put her wool gloves back on and put away the bottle.

She stood in front of the cracked mirror and saw multiple images of herself. Long black hair with icy blue eyes stared back. She had patches of gray under each eye and was greatly defined by pale skin.

She looked like shit. She felt like shit.

She wanted to wash her face. She turned on the facet and took off the wool gloves and stared at her latex covered hands. She took a deep breath and braced herself.

Water didn't . . .do 'it' to her. It was only solid objects that did 'it' to her. The doctors had theorized that compacted atoms were able to absorb memories and experiences more so than constantly moving liquid and gas. The sink shouldn't be too bad. It came with the trailer and she had the trailer since it was new so if there were any memories, they would have them of her using the sink. Still, she hated it when 'it' happened.

She inhaled and removed the glove from her left hand first. Her hand was pale and smooth, but very thin. She slipped off the other glove and tossed the used gloves into the over flowing small plastic trash bin. She cupped her hands under the flowing water, oh so carefully away from the edges of the ceramic sink. She brought the water to her face and rubbed the cool water over her eyes, cheeks, mouth, and chin.

Touching herself didn't to 'it' either. Which meant she wasn't deprived of EVERYTHING.

She pulled up a sleeve to use as an artificial glove to turn off the water. She liked these clothes because when she bought them, they were so new, they held no memories except of being made which wasn't too bad. As she wore them around a lot, it seemed as if the . . . 'thing' had accepted them as part of her body. It took her wearing a new pair of clothes three days before she would stop getting images from them. She didn't shop much.

She lifted her head to look at the broken glass and remembered the broken glass on the mech's chest. She slapped her hands on the sink in shock at the memory.

_her hunched over the toilet vomiting_

_curled on her side crying_

She yelped face and her leapt upwards from the sink and her right hand smacked into the edge of the cabinet.

_her face twisted in hatred for the image before her. her weak fist pounding at the image in useless infliction of pain toward her object of target of rage. the image splintering, but not defeated, just multiplying into a small army . . . then red, flowing red that dripped on the white stained floor. . ._

"FUUUUHHHHHHK!" She screeched as she clutched her hands to her chest, between her breasts. She hyperventilated, and gritted her teeth.

Being a fucking clairvoyant sucks ass.

* * *

Being on a slagging organic planet sucks afterburners.

The grass crunched uncomfortably under his tires. This was so much different than rolling over smooth or paved surfaces. Once a large stick caught under his axle and he had to transformed and nearly hurt himself getting it out. He kept attention for anymore unlikely obstacles.

He wanted to explore the area with sunlight which was irritating too. He hated daylight. The giant orb in sky heated up his metal forcing him to check his coolants circulation. Stupid grass, stupid sun, stupid stupid stupid fleshie who knocked the Inferno out of his hood.

Maybe it was something he did without knowing. But what? He did NOTHING . . .NOTHING at all . . .

Then he spotted something just within a clearing up ahead. It was a little human sitting on the grass holding a little pink figurine of the creatures that he saw often in the area.

If Crash had known then, what he would know in the future . . .if he had known the trouble, the headaches, the glitches, the humiliation, and all the hell this little human and her siblings would cause, would bring him . . . he would have ran over the five-year-old, backed up, forward, backed up, forward, again, again, and again until her small body was pulp and then gone out to hunt down her seven-year-old sister and her ten-year-old brother and do the same to them.

However, he didn't know any of this. Instead, he slowed down and approached her.

* * *

The little girl's name is Jasina (parents had been expecting a boy). She was wearing a short one piece blue dress that hung loose at her knees. Her sister had pulled her blue hair up into a short curly ponytail. She curled her toes on her sandals and let Pony trot on the grass at her legs.

"What do you want to do today, Pony?"

The pony was something she received as a gift on her third birthday. It had come in a My Little Pony box and the box said that Pony's name was Beachcomber and had a sea flower on its flank. She had liked the pony and would take it to the bathtub and pretend it was playing on the beach with her.

Then Pony started to talk when she turned five. He didn't like his name. His name was Pony and anybody who didn't like it can swallow a razor blade. He had Jasina mark out the sea flower on his flank with a black crayon and drew a skull on the flank instead.

Jasina looked over her shoulder to see the car pull up near her and say, "What's up?"

"Uhhhh . . .nothing. Waiting for Freda and Charlie." Jasina scooted around on her bottom to face the car.

"Oh . . .well . . .I guess that's slidin'." The car responded as if unsure of what to say next.

At least he wasn't being attacked again; however he didn't think this human could do him much damage. This one was half the size of the other, but it was uglier. Its limbs were short and chubby and her face was too rounded. At least the last human was pleasant looking with its long arms and legs and dark paintjob.

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence between robot in disguise and the five-year-old girl with her pink plastic pony. She looked at him with blue optics and he coughed as if clearing his air vents.

"Well . . .I was just passin' through." He said, "I'll just be on my way."

"'kay." Jasina said waving. "Bye bye."

"Bye." Crash went into gear and turned. He left the way he came and not very much impressed with this second meeting than he was from the first meeting with a human.

Jasina waved at him as he left. She hummed a little song to herself and Pony said, "What the fuck was that all about?"

Jasina shrugged, "I don't know."

"Weird ass car."

"Jasina, what are you talking about?"

Jasina looked around her and saw her elder siblings coming up the hill tugging a red wagon behind them filled with various items . . .a gas can, cattle prods, barbwire, fireworks, and paint guns. She got to her feet and dusted her skirt free of grass. "I wasn't talking. Pony was talking."

Freda looked at her sister and rolled her eyes. Jasina had been imaging that pony talking since four months ago. She was glad she wasn't five.

Freda had the same facial features as Jasina except her hair and eyes were brown and her complexion a little bit darker. She wore shorts and a sleeveless green shirt with tennis shoes without socks.

"C'mon, retard, we gotta get this shit up to the treehouse."

And that was Charlie, the older brother who knew everything and you didn't because you were a girl. She glared at Charlie and said, "I'm gonna tell Momma you're cussin' agin."

"Yeah, when she's sober, whenever that'll be." Charlie shrugged.

* * *

She smoked a joint to calm her nerves from that unexpected . . . 'thing' in the bathroom. She reclined on the couch and inhaled the sweet intoxication. It did the trick and made everything bad go away.

Only one thing nagging at her. This was the last bit of weed she had left. Which means that in order to get more, she would have to go into town.

She hated going into town. Hated it.

She didn't have a car, she would have to walk to town. Well, if she was going to town, then she was definitely going to get things she needed while she was at it.

Usually she paid the extra thirty bucks and get someone to deliver her groceries. This time, she would save some money and get them herself. As long as she wore gloves, it should be okay.

Another good point, she could surprised her grandmother with a visit at the nursing home. It'd be good to actually see her, instead of talking to her over a phone.

That decided, she got up to get some walking shoes on and go out the door.

Thankfully, it was still morning and it was cool. She treaded across the grass and halted when she saw the proof of what happened last really happened. Near the side of her trailer was scattering of broken glass and the two fifties on the blades of dying grass. Across the yard was a metal baseball bat where she had dropped it.

"Damn." She whispered very unsure of what to think or do.

Should she call the cops? Hell, no, they would think she was being her drug addict self and having hallucinations. If they did take her seriously, because there were actually giant robots living in Oregon, they would be poking around her trailer and she didn't want that. As long as it didn't come back, it would be fine.

Another thing, if she went out and ran into it? It was pissed off and the only thing that chased him off was her threatening to call the cops. Dammit, Eric didn't do delivers and she was going to need more of the stuff soon.

Withdrawal was a bitch.

She went and stepped carefully over the glass and collected the money. She started down the dirt road that would eventually carry her to the town road and take her to town.

* * *

Crash at that time decided to head into town too. His disguised worked on the little human in the forest, why not a town full of them. Perhaps, there was a glitch in the first human's circuits or something like that. He was curious about the way these humans live. He never seen modernization so blended with natural environment like this area of the planet.

He followed a long dirt road, with the radio on, and his windshield still busted open. He was looking forward to being on smooth pavement again and now over this uneven and bumpy grass and dirt.

He saw another human on the path ahead of him. It had a black . . .paintjob . . .was tall . . .long limbs . . .and was more pleasant to look at than the little one in the forest. If he didn't know any better . . .that was the same one that attacked him last night.

He felt so tempted to run it over right now. Transformed and just kick it over those fields with the strange grazing animals. He didn't gun up his engine and shoot forward, instead he quickened his pace to catch up to it.

Margery moved over to give the car room to pass her without fear of somebody being stupid behind the wheel and running her over. It slowed as it came near her and she looked over her shoulder at it. It better not be some ass leaning out of his car to holler at her.

She froze like a deer in the blazes of headlights. It was the ugly car . . .the ugly car that transformed into a pissed off robot. It was coming to finish the job and she was out in the open with no trailer or phone. It pulled up beside her and she stood over in the ditch watching it.

For a few seconds, nothing was said or done. The robot in disguise and the clairvoyant stared at each other.

"I think you owe me something." The car finally said.

Margery couldn't help, but flinch when it spoke. It was so shocking to hear the thing talking to her in clear English. "What do I owe you?"

The car jerked as if jumping in surprised. "What? Your optics not working? Take a look at my hood!"

Margery stepped back as if expecting a blow and said, "Okay, I'm sorry I busted your hood. I thought you were someone else, okay?"

He seemed to devour this and said, "Alright."

A long moment of silence passed between them. Margery cleared her throat and shifted her feet. It was cool, but walking made her hot and sweaty. Her gloved hand came up and shoved her hood back from her face.

Crash watch her push her helmet back and was surprised to see that the human had a second helmet underneath. It was black and seemed loose, no, it wasn't loose, it was flowing. It wasn't even in one piece, it was thousands of threads of . . .wire? No, it was finer than that, the breeze was actually blow a few strands

How the Inferno does it protect its cranial circuitry? The mass was flimsy and wouldn't hold against a blow to the head. The human tucked a strand behind an audio receptor flap.

"So?"

"So?"

"What . . . what else do you want?" It asked crossing arms over its chest.

"What do I want?"

"You're still here." Margery was getting irritated with the echo game.

"Slag, you don't want people around you."

"That's right, I don't."

"Must be lonely."

"I don't need a fuckin' junk heap commentin' on my life, okay?"

"Slag, I'm the last one to comment on somebody's life. . ."

Margery sucked on her teeth in thought and said, "You must be lonely. You're scared of your own kind."

There was a short second of silence and then, "Look, fleshie, I won't comment on you, you don't comment on me . . .and don't tell anyone about me."

Margery shifted her legs and said, "Sorry . . .I didn't mean to be a hypocrite on you like that."

"Just don't tell anyone about me." Crash replied a little too harshly.

"Okay, then, I'll be going." Margery turned as to continue down the road.

"Into town?"

She halted. "Yeah. You too?"  
"Yeah."

Another uncomfortable pause passed between them.

Crash's passenger popped open and he said, "Get in."

Margery's eyebrows hopped up and she backed away, hands up. "Waitaminute. I ain't ridin' in a car named Crash."

"Aw, you remembered my name, get in."

"I don't take rides with strangers."

"Ya already know my name."

"Your windshield's broke. I'll get sick."

"It's going to be in the 90s as spoken on your radio frequency. It'll be like your air conditioning. Get in."

"I broke your window, there's broken glass. I'll cut myself and hurt myself now."

"I cleaned out the glass. Get in."

"You tried to flip my trailer, remember?"

"Hey, that could still happen, get in."

"Waitaminute!" Margery nearly stumbled as she backed away. "Are you sayin' if I don't take a ride with you, you're gonna go flip my trailer?"

"You're saying it, not me. Get in."

"You're crazy." Margery shook her head as she edge to the opened door. "You better not crash, Crash."

"Depends on the other drivers." He said as he felt her crawl inside him.

She settled into the passenger seat without fear. She had made sure to tuck her shirt deeply into her pants. Her pants even had stirrups that they were always tucked into her shoes. Also she had latex and two pairs of gloves on. She shifted comfortably on the leather seats and grin a shit eating smile. "Hey, Crash, I just penetrated you."

"What the Pit was that supposed to mean?" Crash demanded as he shut the door.

"Hang around humans and you'll get it." Margery laughed.

He pulled away from the ditch and glided over the dirt road. "You haven't told me your name."

"Margery." She said smiling at the dash board. She watched the wheel turn by itself as he steadied himself on the road. "Not to be mistaken with Marge Simpson or Margie. If you can't say my whole name, don't bother sayin' it at all."

"I can do that." Crash replied.

Dido's Thank You came on the radio and Margery grinned. She loved Dido. "Hey, you don't mind turning it up, do ya?"

"No problem." The drumming became louder just when guitar kicked in and then brass, and finally haunting vocal.

Margery tapped a foot on the floorboard to the beat and the wind blew on her, cooling her off. "Where you come from? If you don't mind my asking."  
"Everywhere. I've been traveling."

"Where? From up north or Florida?"

"No, I meant traveling in space."

"No shit? What the hell was that like?"

"A lot harder than it is traveling across a planet." Crash replied sourly. "More expensive too."

"You been to any interestin' places?"

"Yeah, but it wasn't a vacation." He said uneasily. "Look, explain what you meant when you said you penetrated me?"

Margery laughed clutching her stomach. "If you don't know, then I can't really explain it to you. Watch T.V. and you'll get it."

"I'll do that." Crash weighed his chances and decided to risk it. "Say, tell me, what have the Decepticons and Autobots been up to?"

"You don't know? I thought you would know since. . ."

"I just got here." Crash clipped.

Margery raised her eyebrows at the interjection and shrugged. "The Autobots are hanging in Oregon near Portland and I heard the Decepticons are in the Pacific."

"And do they come around here much?" Crash asked and he held a certain lilt in his voice.

"Once they went to Florida, but other than that I'm not too sure. But if they came around here, then we'd still be hearin' about cuz nothin' happens around here."

"Good." Crash said and relief was apparent in his voice.

Margery chewed her lip and said, "Are you in trouble with them?"

"Uh? No, no, I'm TRYING to keep from getting into trouble with them."

"I want to ask why, but I know it's none of my business, so I won't."

"Thank you."

The song ended and a weather report came on stating yet again it was going to be crazy ass hot today. The dirt road also ended.

"Which way?"  
"Right."

Crash turned right.

Margery looked at the dashboard and said, "I'm sorry for smacking your hood and window with a bat."

"You already apologized."

"I didn't mean it when I said it then. I was just sayin' it so ya wouldn't run my ass over. I mean it now though." She patted the dashboard with a gloved hand.

"Well, guess what, I meant it when I said I might go back and flip your trailer if you didn't get in." Crash stated.

"Hey now!" She said sitting up straight. "You better be playin' when you say that."

"I'm not 'playing'. I mean it. I will pick that little hovel up and throw it across the slaggin' forest."

"Oh, you got a problem with rejection, huh?" She leaned forward toward the dash board and said slyly, "Can't stand being rejected by a pretty girl? Huh, sweetheart, huh?"  
There was no response for almost a full minute. Margery leaned back, afraid that she had offended him. "Crash? I'm sorry if I . . ."

"You're . . .female?" Came the very puzzled response.

Margery sat up, stunned. "Yeah, I'm a girl. You . . .you didn't know that?"

"No, I thought you were a male from the way you attacked me last night."

"You are kidding me?" She couldn't believe it. "You thought I was a boy?"

"Hey, I'm new. You're the first human I ever saw."

"You thought, I was a boy." Margery said still in shock. "Alright, stop stop stop. Let me out, I'm walking!"

"What? No! I'm not stopping!"

"I'll fucking jump from this thing!" She struggled with the door to open it. It wouldn't budge.

"Hey, cut it out!" He veered over and straightened.

"Stop! I want out!"

"No!"

Margery looked out the glassless windshield and figured that it would be too dangerous to crawl through. She spun on her butt and reared her long legs back to her chest.

"What are you . . .?" Crash started, but stopped when Margery kicked both feet at the window.

The window cracked, but held. Crash went off the road in a panic and hit the ditch. His tires bounced them out and into a fence pole of cow pasture. Margery was slammed into Crash's dash board and she found herself in an awkward position. Her butt was on the floorboard, the gear stick digging into her back, and her feet against the still closed door.

The door swung open. She scooted out and her feet touched the grass. She stood straight and stepped away from the car. The door shut and it transformed into the pissed off robot from last night. He stood straight

She yelped and he looked at her with aqua eyes. "Sorry about that. Just had a flash back of last night when you were all mad."

"Trust me, it's not a flash back." He growled. "That trailer is history now. Consider that thing flipped, flopped, and smashed. You're gonna be finding pieces of that thing all over the forest."

"Hey, I'll call the Autobots." She pointed a finger at him. "It's your fault. Thinking I was a boy, jeez."

"Hey, I explained that." He fingered his siding where there was another cracked window. "How about I lay on my side and you break the other one?"  
"Whatever you want." Margery shrugged.

"And I want to smash your trailer."

"Hey, stay away from my trailer." Margery crossed her arms. "I mean it, you're not touching my trailer."

"You're going to stop me?" He sat on the ground, making the ground tremor at her feet.

"Yeah. I will sic those damn cows on you." She pointed at the pasture where the said cows were staring at them and chewing cud. She swore that one's ears perked up when she pointed.

"And I will kick those cows over that building." Crash pointed at the barn almost two football fields away.

"That's animal abuse."

"How is that abuse? You're gonna kill 'em and eat 'em. Slag, I'll be givin' them the pleasure of flight before they crash into the ground."

She shook her head and brushed her hair from her face. "You really thought I was a guy?"  
"You're still on that?" He looked amazed. "I offended you that much?"  
"Well, fuck, yeah! You offended me." Margery laughed. "I . . .damn . . .that was unexpected."

"Remind me not to offend you again." Crash shook his head. "Primus, I need a jolt."

"Then get a jolt. God, you crashed, Crash. And there was NOBODY else driving on this road!"

Crash called his Shooter from subspace. Margery stared astonished. "Whoa? What the hell was that?"

"That was my subspace." Crash said as he checked the shooter. "It's like . . .an invisible bag. I can put stuff in it and I can take stuff out of it."

"Damn." She said obviously impressed. "That would make carrying weed and my shit around easier. What's that thing? It looks like a giant shot."

"This is my shooter with my Jolt inside." Crash held it out for her viewing. "I take it . . .feel better, ya know."

Margery watched as understanding dawned on and then amazement. "You can . . .shoot up? Get high too?"

"I can get jolted." He replied and eyed her casually. "You . . .do something like this too?"

"Well, yeah." She rolled her sleeves back without thinking twice and held out her arms, wrists up. "I inject mine."

Crash leaned forward to get a good look at the discoloration on her arms. The bruises lined up into a neat row on each arm and they showed up perfectly on her white paintjob on her arms and face. Her paintjob wasn't just a pale color, it had another too. The lightest shades of blue-green formed a web along her arms, like a design. What he didn't know was that these were her blood veins. Along one wrist was a straight line across it. It was upraised as in a tiny mound snaking across her skin.

He reached out finger to touch her arms, to use his tactile sensors to attain more information about his female. Margery saw his coming digit and dropped her arms, her sleeves dropping down her arms. Since he couldn't touch her arms, he instead he touched her helmet.

His fingers meshed the dark strands together and lifted them up. She stood on tip-toe and touched his curious fingers with her hands. "Hey, don't pull on this, kay? This is attached now and it doesn't come off without me screaming like a banshee."

"Okay." His hold slackened. He rubbed the hair between his fingers and watched it fall in a cloud back to her shoulders, except tangled. He collected more, his metallic fingers brushing Margery's scalp.

Margery was glad that she didn't get 'it' from having her hair touched. She was afraid that she would offend Crash when she dropped her arms like that, but it seemed like he was curious about something else about her. Her eyes drooped, the massage sensation was making her relax and the light tug at her scalp pleasantly heightened her senses. It felt damn good and it was embarrassingly arousing.

She was getting ready to ask him to stop before she embarrassed herself when he had sated his curiosity and released her hair. She reached up and smoothed her hair back down to her shoulders, but it was tangled, which was fine, she'll just pull her hood up when she got to town.

"What do you want in town?" She asked.

"Look around, that's all." He turned his attention back to his Shooter. "You?"

"See my grandma, pick up some food, get some weed (which if MY jolter), and maybe, if I need the money, do some tricks."

"Tricks? Like street entertainment?" Crash asked looking at her.

Margery laughed again. It was high and strong, like it was something she hadn't done in a long time and it felt so good to do it again. "No, no, just hang around Earth long enough and you'll understand."

"Just like the penetrate thing?"

"Yeah."

Crash held the Shooter in front of his faceplate and pressed the end to his right optic. Margery watched amazed as he pulled the trigger a bit and a small amount of the blue fluid rushed into his optic. He lowered it and for a second, his optics went offline and then came back on very bright blue. Then they slaked off to cool aqua and he seemed more focused on her.

"Primus, did you know your chest expands as you intake air?"

Margery yanked her arms over her breasts. "Hey!"  
"What?"


	3. Grandma, Town, and a Hole

Hey, this is mostly a Margery chapter. Just to give ya a look into her life and a bit into her past.

More drug references in this chapter and mentions of prostitution.

* * *

The rest of the way to town was almost uneventful. Crash did not crash again and Margery did him no further damage. She sat in the driver's seat with her hands on the wheel pretending to drive. People stared whether from her actually driving a car or that her front window had no glass and the passenger side window was cracked.

"You know not to talk when you're like this around people, right?" She asked the dashboard.

There was a moment of silence and then a small, "No."

"Just be quiet until we leave. I promise not to take long, okay?" She told him as he parked in front of the Well Fairing nursing home. It sat between an eye doctor's office and a bank. It was small, but Grandma Rose seemed to like it. "If you want, you can play the radio until I come out. I'll try not to take too long, okay?"

There was no response. Maybe Crash took her comment about being quiet seriously. She got out and gently shut the door behind her. She even gave the top a pat before watching around to the front steps. Behind her the radio still played.

The cool air conditioning inside welcomed her and she was glad for it. One of mankind's greatest inventions was air conditioners no doubt. The whole building smelled like cotton dipped in alcohol.

"Margery Kayla." Laurie Edwards said from the reception desk. She was heavy black woman wearing a white uniform and a very warming smile on her face. "It's so nice to see you. Rose will be very happy to see you."

"How's she doin'?" Margery asked as she leaned forward to sign in on the visitor's sheet.

"She's doing just fine. Her heart's been better, but it'll do her real good if you visited more often."

Margery chose not to answer that. "Where can I see her?"

"Upstairs in her room." Laurie looked at Margery's long black sweatpants and matching jacket with gloves and said, "June Bug, aren't you hot in that? It's in the 90s out there."

"I'm fine." Margery said quickly and walked away from the desk. "Thank you."

Margery used the stairs instead of the elevator. She wasn't crippled nor was she old, there was no reason for her use an elevator that was built for the elderly. She passed several rooms, some doors closed and others opened revealing visiting relatives or rooms with only a lonely old person inside.

Margery knocked at her grandma's door and heard the familiar voice.

"Come in or stay out, it's your choice."

Margery smiled and opened the door. "Hey, Grandma, it's me."

"Honey," Rose Simmons smiled lovingly at her only grandchild. "Come over here and let me see you."

Margery crossed the small room with her hands outward to Rose's. One thing that was constant in her life was her grandmother. She always wore a church dress as if she was going to church or just came back to church. She couldn't remember a time when this woman wore a pair of jeans. Her gray hair peppered with black and white was always pulled back away from her face in curls and pins or a long braid. Around her neck was a large silver cross that looked as if silvery vines were climbing it.

They touched hands. Long ago, they had learned it was hard to hug and kiss due to Margery's 'problem'. Rose smile brightened and she kissed the back of Margery's gloved hand. "How have you been?"

"It's . . .it's . . .been . . .the same." Margery replied.

The room was the same as when she was last here. It was small with room for a bed, a bedstead, a set of drawers, a mirror, and a small bathroom in the far corner. On the far wall was a carved figure of Jesus on the cross surveying the room. On the bedstead was a thick Bible that's been in the family for generations.

Rose looked at her granddaughter's eyes and said, "Darlin', it doesn't need to be so bad."

Margery released a held breath. She knew this was coming. She knew it. "Grandma, I . . .I really don't want to talk about it."

Rose lowered her head and forced a smile. "Have a seat."

Margery pulled up a nearby arm chair and sat across Rose's rocking chair and her walker. "So . . .has anything special happen?"

"Well, if you read the papers, then you would know that they decided to build the new power plant five miles outside of town. That's going bring a lot of jobs people been praying for."

"That's good." Margery said not really caring about the power plant.

"You're not looking well, honey." Rose said and lifted a hand to touch her face, but remembered and lowered it.

"I've never been well, Grandma."

Rose pursed her lips. "Honey, if you would just go back to the institution."

Margery surged out of her chair and towered over the old woman. "Grandma! Why is it, every time I come to see you, you keep trying to make me go back to that damn institute!"

"Do not use that language in this Christian home, Margery Jane Kayla." Rose snapped.

If anything made Margery back down, it was her Grandmother's fierce temper and sharp tongue. She rubbed her face with her gloves and said, "Grandma, they don't do anything to help."

"That is not true. They would help you, if you would let them." Grandma said touching her clothed elbow.

"No, they . . .they won't make 'it' go away."

"They're not supposed to make it go away; they're to help you to live with it." Rose patted her arm

"They could . . ."

"Surely, you're not talking about that surgery." Rose's eyes flashed her blue eyes sharp. "Margery, that surgery is dangerous. I don't remember the medical terms, but they would have to remove a part of your brain. It has a ten percent chance of a complete success without you becoming brain dead or loosing bodily functions or coming out brain damage. It's too risky, we agreed on this."

"I know, I know." Margery swallowed a lump in her throat. She didn't like the idea of someone cutting into her brain.

"You need to go back there and get yourself cleaned up. Then they'll let you take those pills again."

Margery shook head. "They pills don't . . ."

"They lessen 'it'. Didn't they? But it wasn't enough for you." Rose started, her voice rising. "You had to take them more than was necessary. Took so many you OD on them and the doctors had to take them away from you while you were in the hospital getting your stomach pumped. They wouldn't give you anymore until you started going to the sessions you were suppose to go to, to begin with, but you didn't."

"They made me touch things." Margery said through gritted teeth.

"To help you learn how to control it. How to put up these shields, choice sighting, and . . .I can't remember, but it would have made things so much better. You wouldn't be having to relay on these . . .drugs to help you get by."

Margery felt her blood turn to ice in her veins. Rose stared back at her face with knowing eyes watching her. Margery wanted to speak, wanted to say something, anything, but nothing came.

Rose swallowed and closed her eyes. "Honey, word gets around, honey, word gets around. It's not you taking drugs that scare me . . .what scares me is what you do to get the money to buy those things, is what scared me."

Margery choked, warmth touched her eyes as wetness welled and spilled down her cheeks. Rose reached out to touch her, but Margery jerked backwards as if her grandmother's caring touch was a red hot poker. She knew . . .she knew about the times with Michaels and Mr. Conner.

Touching people was bad for her, worse than touching objects, but it was possible when she had some heroin in her system. Heroin for some reason blocked it, or at least most of it. They would wear an unlubricated condom and she would give them oral sex and that was it. No more than that, but for her grandmother to know this . . .her sweet loving Christian to find out . . .

Oh shit, oh fuck, oh God.

"Margery, we . . . we need to pray, honey." Rose said reaching out for her hands.

Margery backed away, nearly stumbling over the armchair behind her legs. She stepped around it, putting it between her and Rose as if Rose was a fearsome tiger. "Grandma . . .I . . .I can't . . .I just can't pray to a God that never answered any of my prayers. If he did, then I wouldn't be here. I wouldn't wish I was dead and I wouldn't be here hurtin' you. I wouldn't be in hell."

Before Rose could say anything else, Margery's courage broke and she fled. She ignored the only person she knew loved her cries for her to come back and ran downstairs nearly knocking over an elderly man trying the stairs.

Even Laurie called after her as she burst through the front doors. The heat assaulted her like a rapist. Invading every inch of her body and making her start to sweat under her dark clothes. She opened Crash's passenger side and about jumped in.

"Margery?" Crash's concerned voice said to her as she slammed the door shut. "What happened?"  
"Just go, Crash." She couldn't stop the strain in her voice. "Please, just go, go, go."

Crash tore away from the curb a little too quickly and people stopped in their tracks as the car sped off down the street, cutting off a van with the right a way.

"Crash, damn, slow down. You're going to crash again." Margery said, her fingers digging into the edge of her seat.

Crash slowed down and stopped at a stop light. "What happened? What was after you?"

Margery threw her head back and choked on a sob when she had meant to laugh. "Nothing was after me. Just wasn't as nice a visit as I thought it would be."

"You're leaking fluids." Crash stated. The light turned green and he went forward.

"Turn right here." She said wiping her eyes.

He did. "Are you damaged?"

"No, I'm not hurt. I just . . .just got upset . . .we cry when we're upset enough. Nothin' to worry about."

Crash was quiet for a moment and said, "Do you want to talk about it?"

Margery shook her head. "No, it's okay. It's nothing."

"Do you want me to take you home?"

Again, Margery shook her head. "No, just two more stops. I'll be fine, don't worry."

"Where to?"

"Further down this road. Keep going, I'll tell you when to turn."

* * *

She bought her 'stuff' from a small house inside a small neighborhood. The sort of neighborhood that people don't travel through much. Where the houses were uncared for, lawn chairs, toys, beer cans, and junk were in the front yards for all to see. Crash parked on the lawn of one of these houses. It was mud brown and the wood was chipped and one of the windows was broken.

This was Michaels house, her dealer.

He greeted her at the door as if they were old friends. This was what made Michaels a good dealer. He read people, knew what they wanted said to them, and how they wanted to be treated, but not with Margery. He didn't know what to expect from her except her being direct and blunt about everything.

When she offered one time to blow him, she came right out with, "Look, I don't have cash, but I got a mouth. Give me a shot of heroin and wear a condom and don't touch my head and I'll blow you just fine."

He was thrown off, but of course, being a guy, he accepted. He had to grip the edge of the seat to keep from touching that dark hair that draped over his thighs and her mouth seeped through the latex of the condom and around his member. She went home with three containers of heroin and five joints.

He gave her his million dollar smile when she showed up at the door and she gave him a red eye look that said perfectly 'save the smile, asshole, that shit don't wash with me.'

"Is that your car?" He eyed the ugly thing in his lawn.

"Yep." She replied shortly.

"I thought you couldn't afford a car."

"I got it cheap."

"I can see that." The car had no front window and the passenger side window was cracked. "How are you gonna afford to get it fix?"

She shrugged again. "Dunno."

"I know." He grinned at her.

She leveled him with her 'stop fucking around' look. "Here's the money." She held up a fifty.

He winced and pulled her inside by the arm and shut the door. "Goddammit, don't flash that green around here. Damn, have lost your fuckin' mind. Somebody sees you with dough at my house . . .shit."

She yanked her arm from his grip and said, "You got stuff to sell or do I need to go home."

"Shit, everything is business with you."

"We ain't friends, Michaels. You seem to think that jes cause I blow you means we're friends. We ain't. Sell me some shit so I ain't wastin' my time with you."

This irked Michaels some. "Lissen, sweetheart, you might want to get a better attitude with me. I might decide not to sell to you."

She snorted. "Honey, you're goin' sell to me no matter what. You're a greedy sonuvbitch and I got money. I'm a regular. You pay your damn child support from my cash, hell, you get to keep your house because of my money."

Michaels chewed the inside of his cheek. "Fine."

They exchanged currency with goods and he escorted her outside. He opened the door and noticed something strange about the car. It had been parked near the curb, but now it was almost at the door. He stared at it and Margery stepped over to the driver's side.

"Wasn't that car parked further down?" He asked staring at it.

"No, you're just high on something." She replied slipping into the driver's seat. She thought about something and said through the glassless windshield, "Hey, Michaels, sorry I was being a bitch. I . . .I just came from my grandma's. It . . the visit didn't end well and . . .I guess I took it out on you. Sorry about that."

Michaels' eyebrows rose. It was very rare, in fact the first time Margery had apologized for being a bitch about anything. "It's cool, just don't bring your shit around my place again, kay?"

"Alright." Margery nodded and started up the engine, or it looked like she did.

"What you doing? You were almost on his doorstep." Margery hissed at Crash as he pulled away from the house.

"I saw the way he pulled you inside. I almost ran through his front door if you were screaming. I heard you talking to him so I stopped."

"My hero." She sighed dramatically. "Naw, he was just upset that I was flashing money at his place. The cops been watching his place lately."

"Is he doing something illegal?"

"Selling drugs is." She tapped her fingers on his steering wheel and said, "Hey, Crash, isn't that thing you did earlier . . .isn't it illegal where you come from?"  
"Well, it wasn't exactly deemed legal, or it would have been if the war hadn't broke out, but it was really looked down on."

"What war?"

"The war on Cybertron. You must have heard about it with Autobots and Decepticons at each other's throats."

"Oh, yeah." She remembered watching a documentary on it. She had made sure to watch it because it had interviews with real Autobots. It was a few months after they came and in order to help the people of Earth better accept the giant robots, they had done television specials introducing them to the public. "Did you fight?"

"Slag! No!"

"Why not? I thought all the robots on the planet participated."

"Not me and I had a really good reason why not. I didn't wanna."

Margery laughed and rolled back on her seat. "Damn, you're slick, you know that?"

* * *

The next and last stop was grocery shopping. There was a small store that served the cheap brands of food. It was run by the Conners, with the same Mr. Conner that had paid Margery to blow him. Mrs. Conner knew about it, oh yes she did. Margery could tell from the way the forty-ish would glare at her whenever she dared to come into the store.

Margery also happened to know that their fourteen-year-old son was one of Michaels' top customers. She saw him more than once smoking weed with Michaels and his friends in the living room during one of her trips to his house. Fuck, he even offered Margery ten bucks to suck him off. She cussed him out and even threatened to tell Daddy the next time she blew him. He had turned red and shocked and had called her a lying slut to her face and left.

It was Mr. Conner who rung up her groceries and even wrote a small note on the back of her receipt. _Meet me tonight, outside the store. I have a condom._

Margery looked up and met Mr. Conner's eyes. He was an overweight man in his late forties and had only strands of hair on his head. His small eyes looked at her hopefully through thick glasses. She remember him grunting like a damn pig as she sucked him off and his pudgy fingers pawing at her hair and she would have to stop to tell him no touching. Shit, she could fit the whole damn thing easily into her mouth without gagging.

"Not tonight." She said without lowering her voice one octave. "I'm with a friend right now."

She read panic and disappoint in his eyes as she turned and left. But not before catching a searing look from his wife who was ringing up at the other cash register.

She got back to Crash and tossed her groceries into the passenger seat through the none windshield and sat in the driver's seat. "Thank you, Crash. I really appreciate you driving me around."

"No problem. I got to see the . . . 'sights'."

"What? Were you expecting to see monuments to our gods? Sorry, just got one God with a whole bunch of little churches for Him."

"Are you talking about these Dollar Stores?"

"No!" She giggled.

* * *

The ride back to the dirt road was uneventful. Crash would ask her questions about Earth and human culture and she would answer to the best of her abilities. Whenever the conversation steered toward Autobot or Decepticon, he would change the subject or claim up. Margery didn't push him into talking about it. That was his business, but if he wanted to talk, she was more than happy to listen to him.

"Hey, Margery, do you mind walking the rest of the way. I want to stretch my joints a bit. I've been in vehicle mode too long."

"Sure, sure, no problem." Margery said and it wasn't any problem. She only had one plastic bag that she could easily carry by hand. She got out and stood clear while Crash transformed into robot mode.

He stretched and she could hear things whirring inside him as he moved his limbs. It was amazing to see him move. She had Autobots and Decepticons on the news, but never up close like this. Each piece of metal on his body moved just like a human body, but not human at all. He was nice to watch for some reason she couldn't understand.

"Now," He put his hands on his hips as if he had an announcement to make, "time to flip your trailer."

Margery's eyes widen. "You better be joking."

"Nope." He turned and walked into the direction of her trailer.

Though he was walking, Margery had to jog to catch up to his long strides. "You are not going to tip my trailer."

"I'm flipping it." Crash assured her as he scooted around a tree.

Margery stumbled over the same tree's roots and gained purchase on the earth. "C'mon. I thought we had a fun together. You flippin' my trailer is gonna ruin it, ya know."

"Like you ruined my- AAAAAAAAIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEE!"

The Transformer's vocaliser screeched loud enough making Margery drop her bag and slap her hands over her ears, but it still hurt them. Her eyes watch Crash fall forward like a great tree chopped down. He hit the ground and hard enough that it disturbed all nearby birds who took of squawking in distress at the jolting ruckus.

Margery stared at the Transformer who fell flat on his face. His foot was caught in a freshly dug hole and he was sprawled out, one arm in a crooked angle behind his back. She furrowed her brows and looked around and spotted three figures staring at Crash.

"Hey, you! Get yer asses over here, now!" She called in her angry voice.

Crash groaned and managed to get his hands beneath him. He did a sort of push up and saw three small humans toddling toward them, each one dragging behind them some sort of digging tool. Margery was glaring at them as if she knew them. He recognized the smallest as the little human he had seen earlier.

"Charlie, Freda, and Jasina Carter, yer asses had it!" Margery said fiercely, her accent thickening. "Didn't yer daddy tell ya not ta be out 'ere diggin' them damn holes!"

"Well, damn, we didn't think big 'un here trip and fall in one." The biggest one said shrugging.

"Hey, car." The smallest one said waving at him.

Crash pushed up and rolled into a sitting position, getting his foot out of the hole. It was pretty deep for a human, but just the right size for a Transformer to step in and trip.

"Which is he? Autobot or Decepticon?" The mid-size one said staring at him excitedly.

"Neither." He grunted and checked himself for damages. His paintjob sure didn't like the fall, but other than that all was fine.

"You three, get the hell outta here." Margery growled. Great, these damn kids now know about Crash. She felt as if these kids were stealing from her. It felt nice to have him all to herself and not to share him with anybody. Now these kids weren't going to go even if she aimed a gun at them.

"No way! Here we were thinkin' there was nothin' to do." Charlie looked up at Crash. "What's his name?"

"Crash." Crash said eyeing the kids steadily.

"Because you crashed and smashed your windows." Freda pointed at his chest where the front window was gone.

"No, because that's want happens to smart mouth carbons when they hit the ground after I chuck 'em." Crash got to his feet and the humans shied away from him as he moved.

"Are you okay, Crash?" Margery took a cautious step forward a hand reached out toward him as if she could help him. Her eyes rested on his foot. "It's not . . .broken or anything?"

He tested it. He put weight on it and even flexed it. "Everything is working fine."

Margery sighed a long sigh of relief. If he had hurt himself, she wouldn't have known what do to do to help him. She wasn't a mechanic and she sure hell wasn't strong enough to be able to tote his heavy metal ass back to town. An image of her and the three kids dragging him back to town shot through her brain and she fought back a smirk.

"What are you grinning about?" Crash demanded looking down at her.

"Jes thinkin' that this is God's way of tellin' you not to tip my trailer."

"He's going to tip your trailer!" Charlie's eyes were wide. "We wanna watch! We wanna watch!"  
"No, he's not and you're goin' home." She pointed over their heads.

"Dammit, we wanna see some damn violence. He's giant robot. They break shit." Freda said pointing at Crash as of he had an obligation to them.

Crash crossed his arms and rolled his head as if he was rolling his eyes. "You don't want to see me break stuff."

"Get on home." Margery said again shaking her head.

"Aw, we gotta go anyway." Freda moaned. "Daddy's gonna want us to make some 'deliveries'."

Deliveries being a red wagon full marijuana covered with toys to Michaels' house. Mr. Carter grew weed in and around his trailer. Margery sometime got a discount on it whenever she babysat the kids, in fact, it was the only condition that she would baby sit the little bastards.

"Then get on." Margery threatened.

"Fine, go high or somethin'." Charlie grunted as he and his sisters turned away.

"Bye bye, car." Jasina waved back at Crash.

Margery watch them leave, glad they were gone and hoped a fucking bus ran them over. "Sorry about that, Crash. Those little bastards are nothing, but trouble."

"I take it, you know them." Crash shifted his feet and turned to face her.

"Yeah. I guess I should say they're my neighbors." She brush some hair from her face and swallowed.

What to do now? Ask him back to her trailer? God, she was afraid that he would insist on tipping her trailer again. Say goodbye to him now. She was afraid that if they parted ways, she wouldn't see him again.

It was strange. Sometimes the only person she wanted to be around was Grandma Rose. She honestly had a good time today, if you discount all the stops. Being able to talk and laugh with someone was . . .like walking through a new wing of a very small house and you've been having cabin fever. Okay, bad metaphor, but it didn't feel any less good.

"Wanna come back to my trailer?" She said suddenly. "If you promise not to tip it."

Crash looked at her and said, "Yeah, I won't tip it. . .tonight."

Crash knew he shouldn't hang out much longer with her. He should recharge back at the skiff, but he liked being around this human. She was unpredictable and was no longer intimidated by his size, though she did show common sense caution around his walking feet.

It made him happy that she wanted him around. It's been a long time since anyone wanted his company just for the sake of having him around. It was also fun watching her face as she spoke and her various expressions.

Human faces were so flexible and stretchy. It was fascinating watching her tongue flick over her teeth as she spoke. Her eyes held shutters and were had a dot within a dot. The black dot in the center grew and shrunk depending on the amount of light in the area. And he thought her helmet was amazing.

No wonder Triggerflex was so interested in organics.

Whoa . . .now that was a name he hadn't thought of in a long time. And that brought back some memories.

_Instead of gyros, cogs, or gears _to _move their limbs, most organics have this tissue called muscles that they flex and pull in order to move. Not only that, but these muscles can increase in size due to extensive use._

Whoa, he couldn't believe that he uploaded a memory of one of Triggerflex's lectures.

"Something wrong?" He looked down at his side and Margery was looking up at him. "You had a far away look on your . . .face."

"Ah, just had a memory." A bad memory.


	4. Preparation for the Autobots

FINALLY! Time for some G1 characters to made an appearance.

* * *

Crash didn't tip her trailer like he promised.

"So, Crash, tell me about Cybertron."

She was sitting outside her lounge chair on the lawn with a canned coke in hand. Crash was sitting reclined a tree, his knees bent, and a pink cube in hand.

This was the third day since the trip to town and everyday Crash came. It was something she looked forward to when she woke up in the morning. She would look out the window and see if the ugly car was out there on her lawn.

They talked, about a lot of things: mostly about Earth, their species, and T.V. She was very surprised to see that Crash was also a movie lover like herself. She'd wheel the t.v. to the open door for them both to watch.

"What's there to say?" He shrugged. "Made of metal, everyone's like me, and there's no organics, unless ya wanna count the aliens and the animals in the zoos."

Margery took a sip of coke and shifted in her seat. He didn't like to talk about Cybertron nor did he like chatting about Autobots or Decepitcons. He only mentioned them when he wanted to be sure they were no where around. He still wouldn't say anything about why he refused to have any contact whatsoever with either faction.

"What part of Cybertron are you from?" She asked. "Can you at least tell me that?"

There was a moment of silence and he finally said, "Iacon."

The way he said it, so softly and deeply, she wondered whether he liked living there or not. "Was it a nice place to live?"

He seemed to recover himself and tilted his head. "It had some nice places. It had a bar I liked. The Polybar was a great bar. You'd never find spiked energon anywhere else."

He took a drink from his cube and Margery flexed her feet in contemplation. He never mentioned friends, hell, he didn't even mention any names at all.

She was curious. What sort of bad past can a giant robot have? But she wouldn't press him. She could never press him. He was her friend, the first she could call a true friend since she could remember. She would never do anything to drive him away.

He might have felt the same way. He never asked her about her past. Perhaps he got the same feeling from her and she liked him more for it.

"Hey, dickwads! We wanna watch cartoon!"

Both human and Transformer groaned together and turned their heads to see the children that could be from Children of the Corn walking up to the trailer. Charlie led the line that traveled up between them. The t.v. was showing Bonanza, a show that Margery and Crash liked to watch, if only to keep up with all the harem of girlfriends and lovers and crushes that all the Cartwright men collected throughout the series.

The kids have also been coming over everyday since Crash showed up.

"Hand over the remote." Freda demanded, hand on her blue jean hips. "It's Saturday. We have to watch cartoons."

"Don't you have a t.v. at your house?" Margery demanded of the bastards.

"No! Momma threw it at the lady Daddy had over to play." Jasina said waving Pony at them. "It broke."

"Then make your Dad go buy a new one. He can afford it." Margery snapped at them. "As much weed he grows . . ."

Her phone started ringing. She groaned with annoyance and wrestled with the lounge chair to get free. She took the remote with her and said over her shoulder, "Crash, keep 'em from changing the channel. I want to see if Little Joe's little girlfriend goes away or dies at the end of the episode."

Freda looked at the screen. "It's the gypsy girl. She goes away, and she makes Little Joe cry."

"Thanks for ruining it." Crash muttered.

Margery squeezed around the t.v. stand parked at the doorway and made it in time to press the speaker button on the phone. She tried not to use receivers unless she could help it.

"Hey?" She said into the phone.

"Margery, honey." It was her grandmother.

"Grandma, hey." Margery said keeping her voice light.

She could hear the kids trying to convince Crash that they held the rights to the t.v. because they were kids and it was Saturday from outside.

"We're changing the channel and you can't stop us!" Freda shouted.

"Try changing that channel." Crash threatened. "You can't stop me from tossing you over that trailer."  
"That's kid abuse!"

She took a quick step to the doorway and held out a hand and made a shut up sign at the children and Transformer.

"Honey, listen, I heard from Violet, who heard from her son, who works with Eddie from the police station that Sheriff Gregs is coming to your home with a group of Autobots because George Wilkins said he saw you with an unidentified Transformer near his cow pasture a few days ago."

There were no words that could describe the next few moments. The arguing outside halted. Metal moved and whirred as Crash crawled to the trailer and brought his face close to the doorway and looked over the t.v. stand. His optics were a fierce shade of aqua and his lips were set into a very straight line. The kids could be see standing very near him and watching her also through the doorway. Margery felt like an actor on stage with a very intense audience.

"Margery?"

"Oh, Grandma." She jerked back to the phone. "Uh, you just caught me off guard. You mean some Autobots are on their way here?"

"That's what I was told. George Wilkin says he saw you with a giant robot near his cow pasture."

"That's ridiculous." Margery said forcing herself to laugh. "I mean, what the hel. . .heck would I be doing with a Transformer?"

"I don't know, but Sheriff is taking him very seriously. He called the people who could get in touch with the Autobots and they're sending some down, just to look around and ask you questions."

That fucking Sheriff. Sheriff Gregs was Mrs. Jenny Conner's brother and he had once arrested Margey for possession of illegal substances before she dropped out of high school. How the fuck he got reelected, she would never know. She never voted for him.

"I'm just calling to warn you, dear." Rose continued. "Because I know you don't get along with the Sheriff and . . ."

Rose trailed off and Margery knew what she was saying without words. Sheriff would love to have his brother-in-law's on and off lover arrested for anything and possibly sent to prison if possible. And he would just LOVE to see her stashing weed and heroin in her trailer.

"Grandma, thanks, more than you'll ever know. I gotta go. Thanks again." Margery pressed the off button before Rose could respond.

Crash was sitting back on his heels swearing softly in Cybertronian. Margery pulled the t.v. stand out of her way and turned off the set. The kids were staring between the woman and the Transformer with mouths open.

"Is this going to be like an episode of Cops?" Charlie asked, "Except with giant robots?"

"Crashie gonna get locked up!" Jasina squealed.

"Crashie is gonna get destroyed or reprogrammed." Crash responded. "Slaggit all to Inferno."

Margery licked her upper lip and said, "Crash, what are you going to do?"

Crash leaned his head back and said, "I don't know. I can't let them find me. Slag."

"You're going to leave, aren't you?" Margery forced herself say the hated words.

Crash rolled his head forward to look at her. He was going to say yes, he would have to leave. He would have to take his skiff and get off planet, but the thing was that he was unable to. The skiff didn't have the energy, slag; he didn't have enough energy to fully energize himself.

The major thing was that he could easily hide himself, but he couldn't hide the skiff as easily. He needed to make sure they couldn't find it. He needed time to fully hide it with more veins, maybe even dump it in the pond. But he needed time, he needed help, someone to tell him when the Autobots show up.

"Kids." He looked down at the children who were planning on running on home and getting their father's camera and videotaping the whole thing Crash's inevitable arrest by the Autobots. "Listen, I can use your help."

All three kids looked up at him in unison. Margery's lower jaw dropped and she stared too.

"I want you guys to go out there and dig. Dig so many holes that there is no way those guys coming this way can get here without breaking their legs."

"You mean the hole you tripped in?" Freda asked, eyebrows raised high.

"Yeah, and I also want you to give me one of your radios." He pointed at the protruding yellow plastic walkie talkie from Charlies hip pocket. "If you guys see them coming, then I want you to tell me, but DO NOT let them know about it, okay?"

"Can we also set up another trap?" Charlie said hopefully.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you want. Just make sure that it slows them down and keeps them away from north of here."

Margery stared at Crash and crossed her arms, cradling her breasts.

"Yay! Pit of Doom! We get to do Pit of Doom!" Jasina squealed happily as if she was told it was her birthday.

"We need to get the paint guns, the fourwheelers, and gasoline!" Freda joined in Jasina's exuberance.

"Let's go! We gotta hurry if we're gonna do it!" Charlie yanked his walkie talkie from his pocket and deposited it into Crash's fingers and took off. He was soon followed by his sisters.

Crash watched them go and said, "Those organics scare me."

"Yeah, they're like The Omen times three." Margery replied. "What do you need me to do?"

"Stay here." Crash told her turning back to face her. "Hide anything you wouldn't want them to find and start working on a story to find them when they get here."

Margery swallowed a lump in her throat and said, "Just promise you'll say goodbye before you leave for good."

Crash flinched from the waver in her voice. "I can't promise that."

Margery chewed on her bottom lip and said, "I'll do what I can from this end."

"That's all I can ask, Margery."

She watched him transform into the car that showed up one night on her front yard and whose windows she knocked out. The car rolled over the grass heading northward away from her trailer. She waved and he honked his horn at her and disappeared into the shade among the trees.

She sent up a silent prayer to God. The first she had in a long time. She hoped that this one was answered.

She prayed her new friend wouldn't be taken from her.

* * *

In town, people were stopping on the street and staring at the strange new vehicles trailing behind the Sheriff's patrol car. Two Lamborghinis, a green jeep, and a black and white Porsche followed the patrol car in one line.

Jazz was happy to be sent out of the Ark at last, even if it was to a tiny town in south Alabama. It had been a boring few days, the Decepticons were being unusually quiet and until their actions were discovered or they acted, there was nothing much to do except security checks around the Ark.

Hound was sent along for his tracking skills and outdoor experience and the twins were also sent as backup and to give them something to do other than perform pranks back at base. Sunstreaker wouldn't stop complaining about the dirt road they would have to travel to get to this Margery Kayla's place.

The Sheriff was more than happy to get going when they arrived after being dropped off by Skyfire outside of town. In fact, he was oddly eager.

The report had come like this.

A farmer, George Wilkins claimed that he saw Margery Kayla standing at the edge of his property with a Cybertronian with green and brown whorls, but with no badge whatsoever. No Autobot nor Decepticon sigil. A Neutral or perhaps a Decepticon in disguise?

That's why they were there to investigate, starting with asking Margery Kayla a few questions.

They left the town and started down the road which would eventually take them to the dirt road that would lead off to Kayla's trailer.

* * *

Miles north of their target, Crash was on one end of the skiff and was pushing it with all his might. His feet dug into the soil creating deep and wide grooves. The skiff groaned with protest, but it moved inch by inch.

He was using a lot of energy, but this needed to be done while he still had it. He had the airlock on so nothing should get flooded or ruined. A few yards away from him lay the yellow walkie talkie lay on the grass, it's volume on high and his audio receptors waited for any static that would alert him to Autobot presence.

* * *

Seven miles south of Crash's skiff, the children were busy preparing their trap. There was something they liked to call The Hole. It had been created years ago by a small meteor creating a deep crater in the earth from its impact. The crater was deep enough for a small house to be built inside of it, but when it rained, it easily filled and became a small round lake. Since it hasn't rained in weeks, the crater became the ideal place for a bonfire for garbage.

There was garbage from Margery's house and the Carters along with damage furniture with various people who could sell the junk. Everything was dry and would make a perfect bonfire without the need for gas.

Yet, gas was exactly what the children were pouring over the trash. The gas they collected from either spending their own money at gas stations or drawing it out of their parents' vehicles with a short hose and a football pump.

They also had two four wheelers, a Christmas gift from their father after he had a rather large crop of weed, and two paint guns which were birthday gifts from a rather nice crop of weed.

They loved their father's business and their plan for the Pit of Doom.

* * *

Margery was gathering up everything she knew Sheriff would be hunting for if he got inside her trailer. Her syringe, her heroin, and her weed were gathered and slipped inside the inner pockets of her black windbreaker. He may get a warrant to search her trailer, but he'd going to need a lot more than warrant to strip search her.

As she shoved herself to her feet, she felt it. Shakes. It started with her shoulders and glided down her arms to end at her hands. She hugged herself, each hand firmly on the other arm. Nausea gripped her head and she laid forward on the couch till it passed.

Withdrawal? When was the last time she taken heroin?

Last night. At around 8:00, because that was when Crash said he needed to get back to his skiff. She remember because she had tried to get him to stay longer to watch CSI, or was it Law and Order: SVU? She couldn't remember.

She looked at the clock and saw that it was 1:30 PM. Fuck, more than twelve hours without heroin in her system and she couldn't afford to take a dose now with the Sheriff and the Transformers on the way. She needed a straight head and Sheriff Gregs could see someone high ten miles away on a foggy night without any fog lights. He would just love for her to be hopped up high on drugs and bust her right then and there.

* * *

"Slag! I hate this place." The golden Lamborghini muttered as dirt kicked up by Hound's wheels blew back onto his finish. Then a pebble, propelled backwards by Hound's tire flew and pinged off his front. "That's it."

He veered off the road kicking up dust into Sideswipes front. "Hey!"

"I'm getting off this road." Sunstreaker stripped off across the grass northward followed by Sideswipe.

Jazz learned from millions years of experience with the twins that when they pushed, you pulled. "A'right. Ya'll check out the forest and we'll go see this Kayla lady."

Sideswipe called something back to them. Whether it was a wish of good luck or an insult, Jazz thought it fortunate that they couldn't understand from the dry crunches of tires rolling over dirt clods and baked mud.

* * *

Crash stood back and watched the last of the bubbles rise and burst over the small geyser which was the last sign of his skiff. It had taken longer than he had hoped to lever it into the water, but he should have time to get back to . . .

The walkie talkie hissed. "Crash . . .Crash, are ya . . .there?"

He hissed an oath and snatched up the walkie talkie. He held it with with thumb and forefinger close to his mouth and pressed the button on the side with gently with a thumb. "I'm here. See 'em?"

"Yeah, a stupid red one and an ugly gold one." Freda whispered. "The red one tripped in our holes three times."

"Where are they heading?"

"Toward where you said you didn't want 'em to go."  
"North?"  
"Yeah."  
"Slag." He moaned and then said, "Okay, keep watching them, but make no contact . . .

"We're gonna do Pit of Doom on the ugly one." Freda said and clicked off.

"Wait, no, no, kids? Kids?" SLAG!

He transformed and headed south.

* * *

The Lamborghinis treaded carefully through the trees, their optics on the ground for anymore holes. It was the will of Primus that Sideswipe didn't break something on his third fall from said holes.

"Ugh!" Sunstreaker growled with frustration as yet another branch brushed against his shoulder and finish. Keeping an eye out for holes, kept him from being able to move around the sharp hanging branches. Sideswipe choked on a giggle and Sunstreaker gave his brother a venomous look. "Sideswipe, so help me, if you are laughing at me then I'm going to bury you in one of these holes."

"Wait, do you hear that?" Sideswipe had his gun in hand.

Sunstreaker's gun appeared in his within a nano-click. The engine of a small vehicle was coming closer to their position. They held guns skyward, ready to snap them down and fire.

Two small 'pffts' sound emitted from the deep shade of the trees and a small little ball of paint zing through the air and smacked into Sunstreaker's chest plate. There was a long moment of silence. Sunstreaker staring in horror his chest, not unlike the horror a human would have if his chest was cut open and his beating heart was in plain sight for the world. Blue and red paint dribbled across his precious gold finish like cancer. Sideswipe was fighting a war to keep his lip components set into a straight line and not to start howling in laughter.

Then there was the giggle from the source of the paintballs that shattered the silence.

With a snarl of rage, Sunstreaker transformed. His back wheels ripped the grass and soil apart as they gained purchase and propelled from him forward. Sideswipe quickly transformed and followed his twin. Both twins chased after a four wheeler with two riders. It expertly zipped between trees and jumped small hills with ease while the wider and amateurish Lamborghinis had to struggle to maneuver between tightly clustered trees and hills.

The riders easily managed to get gain distance between them and the enraged gold Lamborghini and almost disappear from view. Sunstreaker put on sped nearly ramming into a tree in his blind rage. Sideswipe could hear Cybertronian oaths being muttered and growled from his brother as he rolled over bushes and fallen sticks.

Then finally it seemed the trees had stepped away to give them room in their chase to catch up. They came to an abrupt clearing and Sideswipe saw before him a second four-wheeler with a single rider on it; a young female human. Then it finally began to click into place with Sideswipe the possibility of a trap.

Before he could give warning to his brother, Sunstreaker, seeing a four-wheeler with a human rider, couldn't put together the whole picture that this was not on of the riders who had the audacity to mar his beauty, slammed on speed and shot forward like a missile.

He did not notice the wide hole until he noticed that the ground beneath him slipped away and his wheels rolled in air. He fell and crashed amongst broken furniture, garbage, and sticks with the smell of gasoline lingering in the air. Sideswipe screeched on his brakes, leaving tire trails in the soil and managed to stop just as his front tires touched the edge of the hole.

He transformed into robot mode and stood at the edge of the grand hole and winced when he saw his brother's condition. Sunstreaker had reverted back to robot-mode and was sitting among the junk. The wood had shattered into splinters and stakes and scratched his paintjob up all to hell. Sideswipe couldn't remember a time when Sunstreaker ever looked so bad. Sunstreaker was wrestling with the junk, his legs trying to gain purchase to get himself out and Sideswipe was about to offer his hand to haul him out when he saw it.

The four-wheeler bearing two riders pulled up beside the single rider one. The little one sitting behind him was holding a pink little horse toy in one hand and a small little box in the other. She handed the small box to the elder boy who had been driving the four-wheeler and he grinned as he took out a match and lit it.

"SUNSTREAKER, GET THE SLAG OUTTA THERE!"

* * *

Crash showed up at the hole in time to see the flames fly skywards and a scream of rage and pain echoed follow by cheer of "HOORAY! PIT OF DOOM!"

He watched to see if the golden transformer was destroyed, yet he saw the figure barge out of the hole, aided by his partner, and rolled across the grass putting out flames as his partner kicked dirt over him.

The kids beat a hasty retreat on their four-wheelers and squealed with laughter. Crash made created a special memory into his cranial circuits to never get on these kids' bad side. He checked on the gold one's status and he seemed to be fine. His damages were minimal, but he seemed more concerned about his appearance than anything else. His hull was scratched up and his gold paintjob was scorched and blacken in large patches on his body.

He stopped his air intakes as he watch the Lamborghinis curse at each other and about the kids, and then transform and squealed their tires in the direction of where the kids went. The smell of burn paint and rubber lingered in the air after their departure.

Crash watched the junk burn in the whole and realized that the others could possibly see this. What if there was more Cybertronians around? Slag!

He turned and headed further south.

* * *

Margery sat on the couch and clutched her head. She had considered smoking a joint and see if that would help, but she knew the Sheriff would smell it on her. Fuck, that was the main reason why he got the damn robots to come down here. Everyone knew that George Wilkins was almost seventy years old and his seeing wasn't too good. Aright, sure, he did see her and Crash together, but dammit, no one should have believed him. Sheriff was going to use this to either arrest her or chase her out of town.

Dammit, how the hell could she have forgotten to take some last night and this morning?

_Because she was having such a good time with Crash, she didn't need them to feel good._

She went to the bathroom and bathed her face with a wet rag and even wrapped up in a thick quilt to keep of the chills that still came despite it. Something needed to be done. Either the Autobots got here with their damn questions or she took some heroin to make this go away.

Whichever, it needed to be quick.

* * *

"What is that?"

Both Hound and Jazz transformed and the Sheriff parked his car and got out. They looked in the distance to the north and saw smoke rising. The Sheriff shook his head and said, "Don't worry about it. Up there, there's a hole that people like to burn there garbage in. It probably almost got full so's someone is burnin' it."

The Sheriff was almost in shape if it wasn't the stubborn beer belly in his middle. His sandy blonde hair was slowly giving into age as it was lightly streaked with gray and his face and skin was brown from working in the sun all his life.

"Still . . . " Hound said calling his gun from subspace. "If there is a Decepticon around, then we really should check it out."

"And those two jokers went thataway too." Jazz shook his head. "Sides prolly up to his tricks again. I'll scope it out. Stay here with the Sheriff and I'll give ya a shout if everything ain't gold."

Jazz left Hound and Sheriff and disappeared into the trees. He must have walked for almost ten minutes before Sunstreaker appeared before him. It was strange, one minute there was no glimpse of gold at all, Jazz looks to the side when he heard the branches rustle in the wind, and he looked back to see Sunstreaker standing before him.

"Sunny! Where'd you come from?" Jazz said greatly surprised him.

The gold Lamborghini stood before him with his beautiful gold paintjob and gleaming finish. Only Sunstreaker would figure out a way to get through a forest without letting there be one little scratch on his finish. It was Sunstreaker, Jazz's visual receptors told him that, but his cranial circuits were buzzing like Red Alert's head lights.

Sunstreaker didn't have the cocky or cold look on his faceplate, in fact, he looked a little scared. The gold mech had his arms crossed over his chest plate and seemed as if he didn't want to meet Jazz's optics with his own.

"Sunny, sumthin wrong?" Jazz reached out to touch his shoulder.

Sunstreaker jerked back as if Jazz had tried to hit him. "I'm fine, just fine. We didn't see anything back there."

Jazz regarded Sunstreaker for a second before saying, "Where's Sideswipe?"

"He headed east. I came back to report."

If Jazz had eyebrows, they would have rose above wide eyes. "You came back to . . .report?"

"Yes sir."

Jazz did a double take. Did the words, yes sir, come out of Sunstreaker's mouth? He did a quick diagnostic on his audio receptors and they came back fine. "Sunny, are you sure yer alright? You didn't smacked yer head or anythin'?"

"I'm fine." Sunstreaker said a little too quickly.

"Sunny, when we get back, yer gonna get a full check up by Ratchet."

"Jazz, are you there?" Jazz turned his attention to his radio.

"Jazz, here. Jes chillin' with Sunny. What's happenin' there?"

As Jazz looked away, Sunstreaker took a step backwards. A branch touched his head, not touch, passed through his helmet and scratched a helmet within his helmet. The left side of Sunstreaker's helmet blurred and whorled like a kaleidoscope, loosing shape and focus. For one second, Sunstreaker's optics flared aqua before he winced and stepped away from the branch. Sunstreaker's helmet went back into shape just in time for Jazz to turn his view back to him.

"Hound's waitin' on me. You take care now and radio me if everythin' ain't stylin'."

Sunstreaker nodded.

Jazz gave him one last look as if that would help him delve into Sunstreaker's head and see what's wrong. That didn't happen. The Porsche transformed and headed back south toward Hound and the Sheiff.

Sunstreaker watch him leave and when he was out of sight, his eyes flashed aqua and the field generated clicked off and Crash stood in Sunstreaker's place and leaned against a thick tree. He sighed long and deep in relief and tried to ignore the fatigue of low energy levels in his body. The disguise generator always sucked up too much energy. He fine tuned his vocaliser back to his original voice and he said softly to himself, "It's going to be the will of Primus if I get through this planet's cycle without dropping or being found."

He transformed and sped along a shortcut back to Margery's trailer.

* * *

Margery's head popped up when he heard a car pulling up. She staggered to her feet and stumbled to a window and ripped away the newspaper. She looked outside to see Crash parking near her trailer.

She leaned her head out to speak to him, but he snapped, "Get back, they're coming any second."

She jerked from the window, but stared out of it. Her heart pounded and she held her breath. The Sheriff's patrol car appeared on the road, followed by two different vehicles. She watched the patrol car park on the grass while the other two unfolded themselves into two very different looking robots. She was so use to seeing Crash and his transformations, which made seeing these two very alien to her.

She saw the Sheriff heading for her door to knock and she thought, should she go out to meet them or let them call her out.

She gave one last glance at Crash's still form and went out to open the door.


	5. School Bus, Sheriff, and Stars

I'm a hungry writer. Feed me some reviews so I may continue to crap these chapters out.

* * *

Just as the Sheriff was about to set a boot on the first black metal step to bang on the trailer door, it swung open nearly hitting the man. A young female human with very dark and long hair stepped to the first step down. She was oddly dress for the temperature, she was completely covered with a long windbreaker and thin sweat pants, both black to match her hair. She was even wearing black gloves and black work boots. Jazz believed she was what Spike had described as a goth.

"What the hell you doin' on mah lawn, Gregs?" She said in a thick Alabamian accent and glared hate at the Sheriff who was backing away from the steps.

Sheriff glared back at her and said, "These fellas just wanna ask you a few questions. Seems you was hangin' out with of those Decepticons."  
"I wasn't." The female snapped. "Now get the hell outa here or show me a warrant."

"Whoa, hey now." Jazz said stepping forward and held up his hands palms outward to show they meant no harm or to cause any trouble. "Be cool, someone says they saw you with an unidentified Transformer with a description that didn't match the description of any of our pals or any Decepticons we know of. We're jes . . ."

"Somebody better show me a warrant or I'm going to call the 'real' cops." She looked at the Sheriff for this last bit.

The man turned red and looked as if he was going to say something through clenched teeth, but the female shouted, "Hey! That's my car!"  
Hound had been edging close to the car, gun in hand, in case it suddenly transformed and started firing. He lifted his head to look at the offended human and said, "Sorry, but this car matches the description given to us. Brown and green with whirling shapes."

"That is not a robot. I would fucking know if I got a goddamn robot for a car!"

"Watch your mouth, Margery Kayla!" The Sheriff yelled. "I ain't gonna be puttin' up with that kinda talk!"  
"Don't touch my car." Margery said steadily through teeth. Her very pale face hardened in anger and fear.

"It's cool, darlin', Hound ain't gonna hurt your car." Jazz said trying to sooth her. She was shaking and sweaty, as if she was sick. Jazz had been around humans and seen enough Earthen television to see the signs of an unhealthy human.

Hound approached the vehicle and studied it. It was a sorry and sad sight. The front windshield was gone, and the passenger window was cracked . . .from the inside. He knelt, gun at ready, as he stared into the interior.

The female was starting to fidget and said, "I bought the car from somebody, it came like that, that's why I'm able to afford it."

She was babbling and it came out in a rush of words. Hound turned back to Jazz and shrugged and then tapped the top of the car and said, "Hey, there."

No response. The car was motionless as if waiting for a human to get in and start it up. Hound shrugged at Jazz and stood, but didn't lower his gun.

"See, mystery solved, go away." Margery didn't loose a second reminding them she wanted them gone.

"Not so fast." The Sheriff snapped. "Were you on George Wilkins' property three days ago?"  
"Yes, I was. I was trying the car for the first time and I accidentally went off the road. I wasn't hurt, to your disappointment, but I got out and had a fit. That's what Wilkins saw: me cussing at the car."

Jazz took this time to radio the twins to check on their status. "Yo, Sunny, you doing okay? What's happenin'?"

Two words came back to him so full of rage, fury, hatred, and promised nothing but painful violence to whomever the words were referred to. "We're hunting."

Before Jazz could inquire as to what the twins were hunting, his attention was caught by screaming from the trailer.

"Get the fuck away!"

"We're checking your trailer."  
"Back your ass off, pig!"

Hound was at the trailer trying to separate the Sheriff from the female. He hefted the heavy man away from the steps before the woman could knock him backwards. The woman braced her arms on either side of the open door and stood like the flaming sword barring Adam and Eve from the Garden of Eden.

The Sheriff yanked himself from Hound's hand and ripped off his hat. His face was beet red with anger and humiliation and he pointed a finger at the woman as if it was a sword, "She's a damn addict and she's got drugs in that trailer of hers."

"Where's the warrant?" She screamed at him. "Show me a search warrant, pig!"

"I DON'T NEED A GODDAMN WARRANT! BITCH!" Spittle flew from the Sheriff's twisted lips and teeth.

"Waitaminute! Chill! Everybody just chill out!" Jazz raised his vacaliser till it easily overcame the human's weak screams. When they were quieted, but still seething at each other, he spoke with his vocaliser turned down to normal and said, "What's shakin' here?"

Hound kept himself between the feuding humans and shrugged again. "I dunno. Sheriff wanted to take a look inside the dwelling, but Margery Kayla doesn't want him to."

"He doesn't have a warrant." Margery pointed a gloved finger at the man looking at her with hate very apparent in his eyes.

"Why don't you want me in your trailer, Kayla?" The man asked steely. "I might find drugs? Huh? Might even find money from your side job as a hooker."

Jazz, being very familiar with human culture, knew what a hooker was while Hound looked a bit confused. Jazz looked at the small female still bracing her arms against the sides of the entrance to her home. She was very pale for a human and there was dark patches under her eyes, but her icy blue eyes were very set and determine. Her arms shook and she grimaced as if pain was lacing through her head.

Sheriff grinned very nastily and said, "What is it? The little whore goin' through withdrawal? Ain't good enough for somebody to pay for a piece of your sorry ass?"

The female forced a smile and said, "Why are you accusing me of prostitution? Jealous because I'm willing to suck off Fred Conner and not you?"

It happened so fast. Jazz would later think of it as a lightning of events. The Sheriff went for his gun. Jazz and Hound found themselves pointing their guns at him. Crash was partially starting his transforming relays up to go into robot mode. Margery's face twisted into a mask of rage.

'SHOOT ME, MOTHERFUCKER! C'mon! SHOOT ME! Right here!" She stepped off the steps and was tapping her left breast, to her heart.

"CHIIIIIIIIEEEEELLLLLLL!" Jazz screamed putting his vocaliser to full use. His voice screeched across the forest, frightening birds and animals alike.

The Lamborghini twins halted in their search for two four-wheelers and looked around, three children who were hiding underneath their parent's trailer and celebrating their victory over the gold ugly one and his stupid sidekick thought it was the voice of God screaming at them for their wicked ways, and miles north a pond stirred.

When his echo finally stopped, they were found like this. Hound and Jazz had their guns pointed the Sheriff who had his gun pointed at Margery. Margery was standing on the grass almost beside Hound's foot and had her finger still pointed at her heart, daring the man to shoot. The Sheriff had his gun aimed at Margery, but his eyes were very focused on very large and lethal guns of the Autobots aimed right at him. Hound shifted his foot and firmly planted in front of Margery, protecting her very much to her surprised.

"Put it up." Jazz said in his rare harsh voice.

The Sheriff looked bewildered as if he wasn't sure of what was going on.

"Put it up now, Sheriff. I never hada aim this thang at humans before now and I rather not shoot it at a human for the first time either." Jazz said in a low tone that was not heard from him very often.

The Sheriff hesitated and holstered his weapon.

"Now put the clip back on." Jazz continued not moving his gun one inch. "Then take off the gun belt and toss it down. With the safety on." The Sheriff opened his mouth to protest, but Jazz cut him off sharply. "Dude, you jest pointed a gun at an unarmed civilian."

The impact of what he had done finally sunk into Gregs mind and he paled. He looked at Margery with wide glossy eyes. Margery looked from behind Hound's foot and gave him a cold stare.

"Dude, let me tell you sumthin'." Jazz said feeling angry. He hated being angry, and he got angry with anything that made him angry. "We ain't here to help ya nail someone for possession of drugs. We're here about a new Transformer in the area and that's it. I dunno what you got against the lady, but you ain't gonna use us to get to her. Now git into your car and go home. We'll take care of this ourselves."

The Sheriff swallowed a lump in his throat. He removed his belt and threw it on the ground. Without taking his eyes off the Autobots' guns, got into his vehicle and left. As his patrol car rolled down the dirt road, kicking up a thick cloud of dust, the tension died away. The Autobots put their guns away and Margery backed away, hoping they would leave next.

"Lady, we're sorry that went down." Jazz said to her very apologetically. "Had no idea he was trigger happy."

Margery shrugged and said, "Doesn't matter."

She turned to go back into the trailer. She halted as nausea assaulted her head. She wavered, but managed to stay on her feet and stumble onward.

Hound watched her and said, "Do you need some help?"

"I'm fine." She snapped without looking at them. She managed to get up the steps, but she grabbed the still open door to haul herself up. She turned and regarded them with frosty eyes. "Is that all? Can I please go back to watching Gunsmoke?"

Jazz looked at Hound. Hound nodded his head and Jazz said, "We're cool. You didn't see any giant robots but us around. We're smooth."

"Good." Margery rubbed her eyes with one hand. Her vision was getting blurry.

"Do you want me to take you to a doctor?" Hound asked.

Margery shook her head and said, "I want you to get the hell off my property." She slammed the door shut and locked it.

Both Autobots looked at each and shrugged. Hound gave the car one last look before they transformed and rolled down the dirt road. They traveled in silence for almost a full minute before Jazz spoke.

"She's on drugs." He said somberly. "I've seen enough television and humans to know."

"Should we . . .?" Hound started slowing down.

"Naw, like I said. We just here to check out the sighting. We ain't the cops, we're Autobots, man. Sides, can't help someone who don't wanna be helped."

"She's hiding an Cybertronian, ya know." Hound said firmly. "I can see the footprints all around that home. And that tree had scrap marks and paint over ten feet up. Unless she flew that car into the tree, then that car was a robot in disguise."

"Did you see the way he jumped when Sheriff wacko drew his gun? Almost gave himself away to save her if he had to."

"So far, he's been here for several days, and he hasn't hurt anything." Hound contemplated.

"Doesn't sound like a Decepticon to me, but let's see what Optimus says when I send him the report. We could be goin' back."

"Autobot Jazz, please come in." A human female voice came over Jazz's radio.

"What's shakin', sweetheart?"

"This is Alice from the police station. We got a call in that two Autobots, a red one and a scorched gold one, were holding up a school bus and questioning the children about some trap."

The two Autobots halted on the road and sat in stunned silence not able to process what their audio receptors told them.

"I'm sorry, but could ya repeat that?" Jazz asked hoping he heard wrong.

Alice repeated the call in and Jazz assured her they would deal with it and got the directions. "The twins wouldn't . . .they would know better than . . ."

"This is Sideswipe and Sunstreaker we're talking about." Hound reminded him.

"Good point. Let's hurry."

Both Autobots put on speed and sped down the dirt road, Margery and Crash forgotten in their urgency to stop the twins' mayhem.

* * *

Margery waited until Jazz and Hound were gone from view before leaning her head out the window. "They're gone."

Crash shifted back away from the trailer and transformed. He was unsteady on his feet for a second before collecting himself and crouched to speak to Margery through the window. He shook his head and said, "Margery, why did you . . .I mean . . .Margery, he could have destroyed you."

"But he didn't." Margery assured him as she opened her inner jacket pocket and got out her syringe and heroin. "God, I need a hit."

"I need a jolt too." Crash muttered calling his own syringe from subspace.

* * *

"Alright, I'm going to ask you one last time." Sideswipe eyed the long line of children, grades 1st-5th, against the yellow bus. "Which of you tried to roast my brother in an open flame?"

"I keep telling you!" The bus driver, a very heavy woman in her late thirties and looked as if she been a bus driver too long said from the driver's seat inside the bus. "None of these kids did it! They were just getting out of school at the same time that happened! They were with me the whole time!"  
"Quiet, lady!" Sunstreaker barked at her from the front of the bus. His paintjob looked like it had been through a furnace. Black scraps lined up his legs and middle and scratches and gashes, some bleeding energon, along his back. There was even a thin cut along his left cheek and it widened and thinned as he spoke.

"We didn't do anythin'!" A brave little third graded shouted up at the hulking warrior who could twist his head off like a bottle cap without effort.

"Hey, we'll be the judge of that!" Sideswipe snapped.

A little first grade girl burst into tears and buried her face into her elder sister's side. The elder girl glared at the giant robot and put an arm around the frightened child. "You're scaring my sister!"

"And someone tried to burn my brother!" Sideswipe snapped. "Okay, I'm going to count to five and the guilty better step forward before I go to your homes and step on your kitties and puppies. Say goodbye to Fluffy and Fido."

The children who had family pets started to protest and/or burst into tears while the ones who have yet to convince their parents to get them a pet sighed with relief. One even threw a Mickey Mouse lunch box at Sideswipe. It bounced off his chassis and he was getting ready to go off to carry out his ill threat when a jeep and a Porsche pulled up and transformed.

"Sides! Sunny! What the slag are you doin'?" Jazz shouted not able to believe his optical lenses.

The bus lady looked so relieved to see some robots with sense hiked a thumb at Sunstreaker and said, "Mean-ass here is trying to get the kids to confess to burning him."

Jazz took in Sunstreaker's appearance and whistled. "Sunsteaker! What happened to you?"

"Whadoya think happened to me?" Sunstreaker stepped around the bus with his arms out to show off his scorches and wounds. "Three of these little sons of bitches led me into a trap and tried to set me on fire."

"Looks like they succeeded." Jazz muttered. "Wait, are ya sayin' three human kids did that to ya?"

"That's what I said!" Sunstreaker said his hands clenching into fists.

Jazz fought the feeble grin that threatened to touch his lip components. "Ya'll know that Prowl and Optimus are gonna have yer afts when they hear about this."

"We wanna go home!" A little girl wailed shrilly.

This was followed by more pleads to go home and one even said, "Slap the red one!"

"Get back on the bus, kids." Hound said. "These two won't cause you anymore trouble."

* * *

"Damn." Margery smiled. She was high and she was loving it. Her clairvoyance was greatly deadened by the drug in her system. She had taken off her jacket and boots and was reclined against Crash's hips with a white t-shirt and sweat pants. Her toes curled in the cool soil and enjoyed not getting visions from touching.

Crash leaned his head against his tree and grinned up at the stars. His optics was more blue than aqua from all the Jolts he took. He was very much jolted and he was loving it. They were celebrating, the were celebrating tricking the Autobots, getting Sheriff Gregs into trouble, and just being alive.

"Did you see the way that pig looked at me when he realized his ass was in trouble?" Margery asked.

"Oh, yeah. Thought his optics were gonna fall out." Crash giggled into his hand.

"Ya know somethin'." Margery said smiling up at him. Her eyes were glossed over and seemed almost out of focused. "I wanted that guy to shoot me."

Crash was jolted, but he wasn't that jolted to not be shocked by what he heard. "What?"

"I wanted him to kill me, almost." Margery scratched an itch on her nose.

"Why?" Crash asked her staring down at his small friend.

"Ya know. . .ya don't know." She rolled her head back and rested it against the metal of his hip. "I'm . . .not like other people. I ain't . . .I ain't normal." She rubbed her face and brushed her hair out of her face. She took a long drag on her joint and blew out the smoke from her lips. "I'm a clairvoyant."

"What's that?"

She swallowed and took the joint from her lips. "I see things when I touch things."

"I still don't understand."

Margery smiled a very sad and weak smile. "When I touch something, like say a . . .I don't know . . .a chair. When I touch that chair I see stuff inside my head. Like visions of the past. I can tell you everyone that ever drank from that cup, what they drank from that cup, whether the cup was used to bust someone upside the head, and if I'm really 'good' I can see and hear what sort of conversation is being said around the cup. The doctors tell me that I'm like a level five clairvoyant, the top one in the world or so they say."  
"But wouldn't an ability like that be very useful?" Crash asked her confused. "You speak of it as if it is a bad thing."

"It is a bad thing." Margery said and felt her tears well behind closed lids. "Crash, honey, I can't turn it off. The only time that I don't see shit if when I'm high or have those pills the doctors gave me at the institution in my body. It's not like your . . your transformation. You can stop being a car whenever you like, but I can't stop being a clairvoyant whenever I want."

Crash tilted his head and said, "Margery, I don't want to upset you, but I still can't grasp how this . . .ability is so bad."

Margery wiped away a tear that trailed down her cheek. "Because, sweetness, I see EVERYTHING. The good and the bad, the very bad. You don't know what its like to walk into a laundry mat to wash your clothes and get the vision I got when I accidentally touched this little girl's dress."

The memory came back despite Margery's efforts to quell it. She had chosen a washing machine beside this woman folding clothes on a dryer. The woman had a little girl who was sitting on a bench playing with a baby doll. Margery had bent down to stuff clothes into the machine and when she stood up, she accidentally placed her hand on the neatly folded small dress.

She saw an image of the little girl's skirt being pushed up her legs while her father molested her. Margery had thrown up right over the woman's freshly washed and dried clothes.

"You know what else is bad?" Margery took a quick puff on her joint. "Is touching people. When I get too close to someone, physically, I know what their feeling. Like if their scared, angry, happy, horny, or sad. If I touch them long enough, I can even know what they're thinking. That's why I don't like being around people, why I wear long sleeves and pants in 90 degree weather. I can't take being a fucking clairvoyant anymore."

There was a long moment of silence between them. Margery swallowed a growing lump in her throat and Crash shifted his feet uncomfortably.

He had no idea that Margery was going through this. He figured out that she was unusual for a human, but this was . . .way out of his league. She had just shared something very deep and personal to her and now what was he suppose to do? Share some of his secrets? His past with her? No, he wasn't ready or willing to do that. He only hoped it wouldn't cost him her friendship.

"Ya know somethin'?" She asked groggily. "I ain't stoned enough. For me to go off like this. Damn."

He chuckled as he watch her light up another joint and pretty soon she was sleepily leaning against him and humming a song to herself. Then she became very quiet and he wondered if she had cycled down to recharge when she spoke up.

"Crash, don't leave me, okay."

The plea surprised him and he looked down at his friend. "I can't promise that."

She groaned and he heard the sizzle of her putting out her joint on his metallic thigh. "Then what can ya promise?"

Crash thought for a bit and then finally said, "I promise that you can always count me as your friend."

Margery closed her eyes and said, "Somebody one told me that addicts don't have friends. They only have victims."


	6. Reason

Long chapter this time around. I wrote this while listening to Addicted by Kelly Clarkson. I also listen to Jewel, Dido, and Tori Amos as I write this fic.

_

* * *

Crash first met Stormsaint in a bar within Iacon. He had meant only to go and relax after a frustrating day's work. How the hell did he know that a large Decepticon would be hitting on him as soon as he got a drink from the bar. And that hurt a lot._

_He didn't know how the brawl started. Someone said something wrong, someone cheated at a game of stellar chips, someone mentioned something unpleasant about Autobot and/or Decepticon, whatever. First he was enjoying a spiked energon and then he was slammed into the floor by a fist. _

_The Decepticon was tall, a good head and shoulders taller than him, with silver and charcoal gray paintjob and pink optics. And he knew how to fight like most Decepticons. _

_Crash decided it was in his best interest to feign deactivation and just remain on the floor, however, he was hauled to his feet by the larger mech. The gray mech settled him on his feet and released him to allow him to stand on his own, before rearing back a fist and . . ._

_Sirens howled and lights splashed through the windows. The Squadron! The fighting continued, but some of the smarter fighters beat feet to get out. _

_Crash and the Decepticon looked at each other and both forgot the exchange of blows (or the blow Crash received) and bowled over rolling fighters for the back exit. They both made it outside to the alley just as the Squads rushed in and started making arrests. _

_One end of the alley led to the street which was swarming with officers and a dead end. Crash figured that if he walked out with his hands up went in quietly that they might go easily on him. Just as he was putting his arms up, two large gray arms slipped around him._

"_Hey!" He hollered, believing that the Decepticon wanted to finish the fight (he was winning), when he was lifted off his feet. The ground fell away fast and he clung to the arms around him. Then the ground was no longer beneath him, but the roof of the bar and the roof of the next building, and the next. _

"_Hold still." His captor said as he carried Crash with him over the small buildings of Iacon's slums. Crash nervously held still, or as he was able hanging hundreds of feet in the air from the arms of a Decepticon. _

_To his relief, the Decepticon chose to land on top of an apartment building. No, not on top of the building, but into a window of one of the top floors. The Decepticon landed neatly on his feet and set Crash down on his. _

_The apartment was small, almost smaller than Crash's own apartment. He looked around and said, "Is this where you tell me that I shouldn't bother calling for help because no one will come and then you take me apart for spare parts?"_

"_Uh, close." The Decepticon walked around him and toward a storage unit against the far wall. "You shouldn't call for help, because even if they did hear you, they wouldn't come in here and second, I don't need spare parts."_

_The Decepticon opened the storage locker and withdrew two small energon cubes. "Energize?"_

_Crash stared at his not so supposed captor. "Why did you bring me here?"_

_The Decepticon shrugged and said, "I didn't think you wanted to get caught."_

"_I know . . .but . . .is this your place?"_

"_Right now it is." He shut the locker with a foot and set the cubes on a counter. "If this is making you uncomfortable, you can leave. I'm not keeping you a prisoner here, ya know. I just brought you here because it was a place to come to."_

_Crash looked around the apartment one more time and said, "Slag, it's a lot quieter than the bar at least."_

* * *

Crash's optics flicked on and he gasped as he was jolted into reality. He looked around the cold and wet morning of the Alabama woods and the trailer with newspaper windows.

If he had saliva, he would have swallowed. If he has a tongue, he would have licked his lips. Instead, he ran a hand over his face.

It been a very long time since he thought about Stormsaint. Just like the memory about Triggerflex. He shook his head slowly, as if that would clear away the unwanted memories.

A small sigh was at his hip and he looked down to see Margery leaning against him, sound asleep. Her head was tilted and a line of wet drool was from the corner of her mouth to her chin.

Crash gently touched her head and then her arm. His fingertip rolled over her wrist and he was surprised that Triggerflex had been right. Orgaincs had had skeletons and were not just skin filled with compressed water.

There it was again. Another memory of the little blue minibot plagued his mind. He took a deep intake of air and released it slowly. He checked his chronometer, but then remembered that it stopped working ages ago. A lot of things inside him had stopped working.

He checked his energy level and saw that he was less than fifty percent. He didn't have much energon left. He didn't have a converter and he didn't know slag of hot to build one anyway. He needed to get more, but where?

Slag. He knew where. He just was too afraid. Now came the BIG question. Which did he fear most? The certain deactivation of when he ran out of energy and went into stasis lock on this hostile planet or risk trying to steal from either the Autobots or Decepticons?

Pit, no! Not from the Decepticons. Not if Megatron was still their leader. Autobots were the safer gamble.

He curled his hands between his knees and sighed. He would have to leave today then, while he had the energy to get to Oregon. It wasn't going to be easy. He had studied a map of the continent and Oregan was almost on the other side. Then he would need his disguise shield to let him get inside the Ark and get the energon. He was sure that he could get inside and fully energize, then he should be able to come back.

He heard a sigh and he looked down to see Margery stretching her limbs and yawning. "Mornin'."

"Good morning." Crash replied and watch her don her jacket back on and pull on her shoes. "There's something I got to tell you."

"Let's go for a drive." Margery said rubbing her eyes.

He couldn't bring himself to say no to her.

* * *

"So, ya gotta go somewhere?" Margery sat in the driver's seat, her hands and arms folded around the steering wheel and she was leaning forward to plant her chin on top of her gloved hands.

"Yeah, but I'll be back." Crash promised her as he rolled through the forest. There was a light fog and the dew covered grass made his tires wet.

Margery shifted her weight. Suddenly she had an ache inside her stomach. "When?"

"A few days, I hope." Crash said and this time saying the truth. He hadn't told her about going to get more energy. Only that he wanted to leave the area until everything went away with the Autobots.

"I don't . . .I want to come with you."

"You can't." Crash said firmly. "If we both disappear than they're gonna get suspicious."

"And they won't if I say my car got stolen and a few days later, it suddenly comes back."

"Make something up." Crash said and would have shrugged if he could.

Marger shifted uncomfortably. Something was wrong with her . . .

She rubbed her face with her gloves and said, "I don't like this."

"Me neither, but it'll be best."

"Promise you'll come back."

"I can't promise that."

"What can you promise?"

"I'll call ya if I can?"

"I guess I'll take it, if that's all can give me."

* * *

Crash took her back to her trailer. Margery leaned her forward against her hands folded on the steering wheel. "I guess this is goodbye . . .for now."

"How about a see you later?" Crash offered trying to lighten the mood.

Margery shook her head and said, "Alright, see you later, even if you can't promise me that at least."

She got out and headed for the trailer. She felt angry and sad . . .and the area between her thighs felt sticky.

She looked over as Crash was turning around. She bit her lip and waved, hoping he could see her. "You come home soon!"

Damn, what is going on with her . . .oh shit.

She dashed into the trailer and into the bathroom. She slapped down a toilet seat cover before yanking down her pants and panties to see both mottled with blood.

She sat on the toilet seat and cursed while cleaning herself up. She had always been irregular. She had about 2 to three periods a year and when she did bleed, it was like someone slaughtered a pig inside her vagina. She bled and bled heavy.

As she reached for a box of super plus tampons in the medicine cabinet (thankfully, tampons did not give her 'it'. Why? She didn't know.) she realized something. If she had bled though her underwear and pants, then she must have . . .

She suddenly felt sick and embarrassed.

* * *

Crash trailed down the dirt road feeling like he had done Margery dirty. She almost looked like she wanted to cry, like he seemed a lot on those t.v. shows of crying females. He didn't want to be the reason why she would be upset and cry.

He was almost ready to turn around and tell Margery the truth. Maybe she could help, being a human gave her some entry ways that he didn't have. However, that didn't happen because Jasina appeared out of no where on the road ahead of him.

He screeched to a halt, his front inches from her narrow chest by the time he managed to come to a complete halt.

"SLAAGG!" He hollered as the fright rolled through his fuel lines. "What the slaggin' pit were you thinking you little glitch?"  
Jasina giggled as if she had not come within inches of being run over. Her elder brother and sister appeared on the side of the road. Crash noticed that all three kids were dirty and scratched up and they were wearing the same clothes they were wearing yesterday.

"What happened to you?" He asked eyeing them carefully. He would have transformed into robot mode, but lately, transforming had been tiring, which had him very worried.

"We're hiding." Freda said coming to stand by the passenger door. "Those red and yellow robots are pissed."

"Well, I would think so after you nearly torched that gold one." Crash muttered. "What do you want?"

"We wanna come." Charlie pulled on the door handle of the driver's side. "I want in."

"No." Crash snapped and revved up his engine. "Move it or go under, your choice."  
"No, let us come or we'll tell!" Freda said smartly. "We'll tell Sheriff dumb that you were REALLY out here."

"What?"

"Yeah! We wanna come with!" Jasina banged on his front with her pink pony.

"I'm going to Oregon!" Crash said bewildered. "Why would you want to leave home anyway?"

"Because the red and yellow robots are after us." Freda said with a grin that told him that that wasn't a real reason but an excuse.

He was burning energy that he may end up depending on later to get by right here arguing with these small human. Yet, he knew that these humans would be a glitch in his cranium the whole way there. Who knows? Maybe they could be of SOME help to him.

"Alright, but you're riding in the back." He unlocked the backdoors. Charlie opened his mouth to protest, but Crash revved his engine again to show he meant business.

"Fine!" Charlie crawled into the back with his sister. "There's a really ugly gross red stain on the seat anyway!"

* * *

Jazz and Hound decided to go back and give Margery one last visit before returning to the Ark.

Optimus had been outraged at the twins for holding up the school bus. He had been plagued from calls from the town officials about angry parents ever since yesterday. He had ordered the twins to come back with Skyfire while Jazz and Hound continued to search.

They traveled the same road Crash had used to leave an hour ago. While they were pulling up at Margery's trailer, Crash was outside of the town limits and was getting on High Way 65 toward Montgomery with three rowdy kids in his backseat and menstrual blood stain on his driver's seat. Hound first notice that the car was gone and their was a more subdued nature around the trailer.

They transformed just as Margery had opened the door.

"Crash?" She said as she looked out and her face died when she recognized them. "What are you doin' back here?"

Jazz held up his hands showing no weapons or intent to harm. "We jes here to close thin's up is all."

"Where's your car?" Hound asked looking around for it incase it was somewhere else.

"I sold it." She said in a stiff tone.

Her eyes were red and looked tired. She was wearing the same jacket and shirt she had on yesterday, but a pair of jeans with it now. Even though she wasn't showing signs of withdrawal, she didn't look any healthier.

"Overnight?" Jazz asked.

"Yeah, yes, I did sell it overnight." She crossed her arms and braced her thin frame in the doorway.

Even though he was seven times her size and was strong enough to crush her into pulp, she was willing to get into a confrontation with him. "Hey, we didn't come here to cause any trouble."

Her icy blue eyes told him that she didn't believe him. It was frustrating and odd for him. Usually humans were either curious, helpful if they could be, or outright friendly, but not hostile like this. Sure, there had been some humans that had been fearful on first meeting him, but he would lay down the charm and talk his way onto their good sides. This was outright hostility and he had the feeling she was like this to everyone, human and Transformer.

"Who did you sell it to?" Hound asked.

"That's my business, now isn't it?" She snapped.

Okay, time to get down and dirty.

"His name is Crash, isn't it?" Jazz said throwing off the covers of deception. "We know that a Transformer been hangin' out here. There's paint on the tree where he's leaned on it and my buddy, Hound, here can see the footprints around your trailer. We ain't here to hurt 'im, we just need to know who he is, is all."

Margery set her jaw and stared at him with steel in her eyes.

"Obviously, you're friends, which is cool. Nothin' wrong with it. I got human friends myself. Spike and his dad, Sparkplug Witwicky." There was a look in her eyes and he laughed, "Yeah, they're humans even though they got Autobot names. However, there's Carly and Chip Chase, not to mention Track's pal Raoul." He kept talking, telling her a bit about each human hoping, just hoping that maybe this could break her shell, melt through that icy barrier around her. "We're fightin' a war, honey, and when there's a new face in town, we gotta find out who he is, ya know, friend or foe. If he's your friend, then no doubt he could be our friend. We jes lookin' for 'im to make sure that he's ain't out here to hurt anybody is all . . ."

Margery's face didn't change. She stepped back and slammed the door shut and the loud click snapped as she locked it. Though he was standing ten feet away from the door, he felt as if she slammed it in his face.

* * *

"We're hungry, we wanna eat!"

"Shut up!" Crash growled as he sped down the highway. He went by the speed limits, not wanting to use up energy by outrunning the cops. He was getting ready to open his doors and spill these glitches out on the highway when he saw a sign for a gas station up ahead. "You have money?"

There was a moment of silence in the back and Charlie piped up. "Yeah."

Crash followed the signs until he found the gas station and pulled up at the front. The gas station looked a lot cleaner than the ones further south. He could see rows food stands inside. "Go in and get what you need and then come out. I'm on a time limit here, ya know."

Charlie dutifully slid out. Crash noticed that he left the door wide open and his sisters scooted over to one end of the back. He felt the potential energy from them and he wondered if he had made a good choice letting them eat.

Charlie went in side and three minutes later, he was running out. The glass door flying open and he dashed out with his arms full of chips, cookies, cokes, and Debbies with an angry man behind him.

"STOP THAT KID!"

"DRIVE, CRASH! DRIVE!" The kids hollered as Charlie leapt into the back with his stolen items in hand.

The man stomped to the open door and almost had his hand crushed when the door suddenly slammed shut. Crash almost ran over the man's foot as he backed from the parking spot and screeched out of the lot. The man was screaming at them shaking a fist as Crash sped down the highway, nearly sideswiping a family van. The kids cheered and began tearing into the bags and popping open bottles of coke. Crash could only speed forward, too stunned to speak for almost three minutes.

"That did not just happen." Crash muttered, but the sounds of munching and bags wrinkling said otherwise.

* * *

It had been rough going. He felt himself getting weaker and the kids weren't helping. What with their fighting, screaming, and him pulling over and into gas stations for them to use the bathroom. And the little glitches had the gall to complain whenever he needed to stop to take a Jolt. The crumbs from Charlie's heist got all over his backseat and the kids kept claiming there was a red stain in the driver's seat.

He had continued overnight and the only peace he got was when the kids fell asleep in the back. They were so quiet and small looking, that it made him think that all it would take was one stomp from his foot to end their little loud lives.

He finally made it. To Oregon Portland, AKA to the kids the Port of Orgy, whatever that meant.

He drove along the city streets at night. It was almost a two day trip even with driving overnight as he had. The kids had fallen asleep in the back again much to his relief. He didn't want them to cause a ruckus and have him discovered. He was very alert. He knew the Autobots had taken mostly car forms and he didn't know them all except for the Lamborghini twins, the jeep, and Porsche which he had seem for himself.

He kept to the less traveled back allies and he turned onto a street where there was a rather large nightclub. Humans in bright and strange clothes were lined up along the side of the building. Being around too many humans made him nervous, but as he was carefully making his way past, a dark blue car transformed into a large dark blue robot. Crash almost slammed in brakes, but he forced himself to continue.

He silently prayed to Primus and all the past Primes and his creator that this robot would not notice his color scheme see that his windows were knocked out, had no human driver, and three unsupervised sleeping human children in his back. The robot simply entered the rather large entrance way into the nightclub and Crash went on his way unmolested.

He parked in an alley way for the night and tried to plan what his next actions would be. He knew the Ark was a few hours outside of Portland. He would need to watch the area for a while and see what Autobot left so he could take their image and voice for his disguise. Then he would simply use the disguise to find where they kept their energon stored and take as much as he could carry out. Then he would fully energize for the first time in a long time and go back to Margery.

"_You come home soon!"_

He had heard and it had touch something in him. Home. When was the last time he had consider a place home? Not the skiff, the skiff was something he bought cheap from a Teroana merchant on Tero. He had been to so many places, just getting by, knowing that he would have to leave to continue surviving, that home never really touched his mind.

He suppose the last home he had had been Cybertron within the Polyhex city before the war really broke out.

Oh, no, no more unwanted memories until he got through with this scheme of his. Hopefully, by this time tomorrow night, he hoped to be well on his way back to Margery fully energized, with lots of cubes, and hopefully, just maybe, without the slaggin' kids.

* * *

"Why do we have to stay here?" Freda wailed when Crash pulled up in front of a playground and told them to stay here till he came back.

"Because where I'm going, you definitely can't come." Crash replied snidely. "Don't argue with me. Take what's left of the food Charlie _stole _and stay here until I come back. Play or something."

"How do we know you'll come back?" Charlie said steely, he and his sisters made no move to exit through the door Crash opened for them.

"How do you know I will come back?" Crash said hoping to throw them off.

"Stop patronizing us. We may talk slow, but we're smart." Freda said coolly.

"I can't promise I can come back." He decided to just level with them. "I'm about to do something really dangerous that could get me destroyed. Or captured, but I'm being cynical so I'll settle with destroyed. You will either get destroyed with me or get me destroyed. It's safer for me to go alone, okay?"

The kids were quiet for a minute, as they devoured Crash's hard truth, and then Jasina said, "When you come back, we're gonna go home, right?"

_You come home soon._

"Yeah, we'll go home."

* * *

The Ark was a lot bigger than he had thought, Pit, than he had imagined. It was buried really well inside the volcano with only the rear thrusters sticking out. Beneath them he could see the entrance way. He was on a small cliff still in robot mode, lying face down and looking over a cluster of rocks and waited.

It was late afternoon, but he wanted to make sure that he when he went in, it was as an Autobot that had truly left. It was going to look stupid and sure as hell give him away if he showed up inside as an Autobot that's already there.

He waited and kept watch. Several Autobots came out, but didn't leave. They hung outside, did guard duty, performed necessary outside functions. As the sun lowered, he began to fear that his plan wasn't going to go through. He felt weak, he hadn't slept for the last two days and his internal repairs weren't worth oil anymore. He was forced to admit something that he had been in denial of for the last year of his nomad life. He was one very sick Cybertronian and he was close to being on his last legs.

He had been running on low in takes of energon, his jolts, and his will to live and that was it.

When he transformed out of car mode, it had hurt and made him drop to his knees. He had to force the transformation and it looked like he wasn't going to transform again till he had some energon in him. He had taken the rest of the energon he had on him on his trip and that was the last of it. This small mission would decide whether he would live to see the end of the week or better yet . . .if he would see Margery again.

"Please, leave, you slaggers. Please, for the love of Primus, don't let me die like this. Please . . ."

Then it happened. A green robot and a blue one came out. Crash recognized the green one as the one who had came to Margery's trailer looking for him. He watched as he and the blue transformed and rolled away from the Ark. His optics followed them entering the nearby forest.

He pushed himself away from the edge of the cliff and crawled over the rough ground. Since they entered the forest, he would need to be seen coming from the forest. When he was sure he was out of view from the Ark, he got to his feet and ran. The small mountain led down into the forest.

However, it was very steep. And he was in a very big hurry. And it was very big rock he tripped over. And it was a very long and hard fall he took.

The rocks scratched and dented his chassis, his head banged against the ground, but he kept rolling downhill until he ended up in the edge of the tree line. There was a sharp pain in his right shoulder and he hollered with pain. He had collided with a rather large oak and with a low branch that impaled him when he smacked it.

Leaves and the branch hung out of his shoulder and were covered with what energon he had in his system. He whimpered as his pain receptors told him what he could already see with his optics. He pushed up on his feet and the branch broke from the tree, but stayed in his shoulder.

He lowered to his knees and gritted his fingers in the dirt. Of all the stupid and dumb things he had ever done . . .

Okay, don't panic. Surely the Ark had a repair bay with tools to help him. He ignored the fact that he knew nothing about anatomy and would not know how to use the tools to begin with. He just knew that he needed tools to fix his shoulder.

He looked at the branch. Small beads of energon was rolling down it's length and onto the grass. The branch was long enough to disturb his disguise field, so it had to go. He sat up on his knees and wrapped his hands around it. He tugged and choked on the pain, but it refused to budge. The hard bark was dragging against something inside his shoulder and it refused to come loose. He could only break off the part hanging out of him and leave the end still inside his shoulder.

This made his mission more difficult than before. Now he wasn't running on low energy, he was running on low energy that was slowly bleeding out of him. He needed to get to that energon before he was forced into stasis lock.

* * *

Spike and Bumblebee had dragged a table from inside the ark and were playing a game of monopoly with Jazz and Blaster. Jazz was the car, Blaster the horse, Bumblebee the hat, and Spike was the dog.

"Hey, Hound's coming back." Spike pointed at the coming green figure exiting the woods.

"That's early." Bumblebee commented as the green scout got closer. "Usually he and Beachcomber don't come back until the next day when they go on their nature hikes."

Both the human and the mini-bot watch their large green friend approach the Ark clutching his shoulder as if in pain. Jazz saw this and said, "Hey man, you ain't lookin' too hot."

"I'm fine." Hound said in a nervous and clipped tone. "Shoulder started acting . . . up. I'm going to get it looked at."

"Where's Beachcomber?" Spike asked looking around for Hound usually hiking partner.

"Went ahead. I'll catch up to him later."

The three Autobots and the human watch the usually friendly Hound enter the Ark without a further word. Jazz looked very concerned at the entrance while Bumblebee, Spike, and Blaster looked confused.

"I hope its nothing serious." Spike muttered.

"Maybe I should go and check on 'im." Jazz said feeling a bit of de ja vu. He recalled how Sunstreaker had acted strangely like this and the gold mech had claimed that he did not come back to make any such report. He and Sideswipe were too busy seeking revenge on those kids.

"Alright, man, we'll just . . .keep watch over your hotels . . ." Blaster gave Spike and Bumblebee a knowing smirk.

"Don't you dare try to take over Boardwalk while I'm away." Jazz warned. "Your aft owes me money."

* * *

Crash had no choice. He turned off his shield as he headed further to the back of the Ark. The generator simply took too much energy to maintain for long while he was wounded and weaken like this. Luckily, nobody was traveling within the ancient ship too much.

He saw the entrance for the medical bay. Primus must surely be on his side after all. He went inside and was greatly relieved to see it was empty. Thank you, Primus.

Another stroke of luck. There was a small energon cube sitting on a small exam table. Crash pounced on it. He snatched it up and threw its contents to the back of his throat. He felt his system greedily taking it and using it to keep him functioning. The cube will help, but not much. Not as long as he got this huge stick in his shoulder.

* * *

Sunstreaker was very surprised to see the medical bay doors locked and unresponsive. Usually these doors were open twenty-four hours in case of emergencies.

"Ratchet! Open up!" Sunstreaker racked his knuckles against the orange doors. "Sideswipe bang my knee against something and it's not doing right!"

There were sounds of something dropping and quicken footsteps. Then Hound's voice came. "He's not here!"

"Why's the doors locked?" Sunstreaker yelled back.

"Go away!"

"What's goin' on?" Jazz showed up at his side.

"Hound's slaggin' in there with the slaggin' doors locked." Sunstreaker kicked the door.

"Hound, my man, what's happenin'?" Jazz called.

"Nothing! Go the slag awaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAYYYY!" It ended with a long wail of pain.

Jazz banged on the door. "Hound, open the door. What's goin' on in there?"

"NOTHING!"

"What the slag is goin' on in front of my repair bay?" Ratchet, coming back from the rec room, appeared glaring at them.

"Hound's in there and we think he's hurt." Jazz said. "Hound! Ratchet's here. He can help ya."

"No! Go away!" The voice wavered with panic and pain.

Ratchet growled with frustration and pressed the seal to open the door. Nothing. It took him a few tries to realize that he had been locked out of his own repair bay. Later, Jazz would swear that he saw Ratchet's optics go redder than a Decepticon's.

"He did not . . .just lock ME out of MY medical repair bay." Ratchet said in a low tone and then he furiously kicked the doors. "HOUND! You open this door right the SLAG NOW! So help me, I'll knock the cranial circuitry out of your head with one of those SLAGGIN' trees you love so much!"

"Please! Just go away!" The voice was full of panic and Jazz noticed that it didn't sound very much like Hound anymore.

"Move over!" Sunstreaker subspace his gun and shot the seal.

The door rushed open.

The three Autobots ran in.

They froze at what they saw.

Crash was sitting on the exam table with a pair of Ratchet's medical pliers clutched around a wooden stake in his shoulder. By his hip was a drawer full of tools and several were covered in pink energon.

Before Sunstreaker could lift his gun and say don't move, Crash picked up the tools and threw them. The Autobots ducked out of the way being that the tools were sharp or could knock out an optic. Crash bowled over them and down the hallway.

Sunstreak growled with rage and transformed. His wheels squealed on the floor as he took off after the stranger. The stranger rounded the corner and he was quick to cut the corner in time . . .

To see Sideswipe sitting on the floor, clutching his shoulder.

Sunstreaker screeched to a halt, but his twin lifted a hand. "Get 'im! He went that way!"

Sunstreaker sped forward with the intent to kill the stranger who harmed his brother.

When Jazz and Ratchet came around the corner, they saw Sunstreaker sitting on the floor. Before the image could say the same thing, Jazz reached down and hauled him to his feet and pressed him to the wall. As soon as Jazz's hands touched him, the image revolved back like a kaleidoscope into a brown and green Transformer with terrified aqua optics.

"You're Crash, aren't you?" Jazz said holding him against the wall.

Crash couldn't speak, so far into terror as he was.

Jazz relaxed his hold. This was a wounded and terrified bot right here. There was no . . .

Crash punched him so suddenly, he was caught off guard. The punch was weak and not a very well thrown one, but it still surprised Jazz none the less. He shoved the Porsche away and barreled past Ratchet.

There was a squeal of tires on metal and the Lamborghini twins plowed up the hall. Sunstreaker found Sideswipe in one piece in the rec room and they put two and two together and got an imposter. Sunstreaker was furious that he was fooled and that the imposter had tricked him with his own brother's image. Sideswipe was along for the curiosity to see a Transformer who could take the image of other people.

They sped past Ratchet who was radioing Red Alert, telling him of an intruding who can carry the disguise of others and Jazz who was transforming to follow them.

* * *

Crash ran into dead end. He dropped to his knees and whimpered. He had forgotten the exit and he was too tired, too spent to run anymore. He needed to rest, give his system time to . . .

"That him? He's ugly."

Sound of transformation froze his coolants cold. He turned to see the twins approaching him. He threw up the disguise of Blaster, but it bled away. He didn't have the energy for the generator anymore.

He was hauled to his feet and again held against the wall by the gold one. He looked furious and Crash felt like this guy was itching to take him apart.

_You come home soon._

Margery.

The days he spent with her had been the most fun and the happiest he been in a very long time. It was the first time he didn't worry about his failing system, his past, his addiction, or how rotten everything had been for him.

He had been lonely until he rolled up to her and got her to accept a ride from him. He hadn't known he was lonely and hungry for companionship until he met her. Just as she had been lonely until she met him.

It was like an addiction. Now that he had a taste of friendship with this small human, he wanted more. He wanted to go back and watch Bonanza with her, watch the strangeness of her organic body, the way she swore and said the strangest things to him.

_I have just penetrated you._

He always meant to find out what that meant. He felt as if it was some insult that he needed to get mad at her about, but if this gold warrior had anything to do with it, he would never get that chance.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't take you apart piece by piece?" The gold warrior snarled into his face.

Crash felt energy he had never felt before. He reared up his feet and kicked the warrior in the stomach. Sunstreaker was shoved backward and received a hard and better thrown punch from Crash.

"My reason is in South Alabama!" Crash yelled. "And I'm going home to her soon!"

Sunstreaker bitch slapped him and he hit the floor.


	7. Scalpel

Reviews, give me thre reviews. Thumbs up or thumbs down. Continue it or trash it. Is writing this worth my time or not? Tell me!

* * *

"Now that was pathetic." 

Crash didn't go offline as expected. His optics went out, but came back on. He could see two pairs of feet, a gold pair and a black pair. Crash groaned and tried to push himself up.

"Don't move." A gold foot kicked him in the side and he obligingly dropped back to the floor.

"We got him."

A voice sounded over a radio. "Keep him detain there. Optimus is on his way."

Optimus? As in Optimus Prime? Oh Primus. This definitely is not good for the Autobot leader was coming.

Crash rolled onto his back and grunted with pain as his shoulder protested the movement. He spotted the gold one was at near his feet. Didn't he say he had a problem with his knee?

He looked and saw that there was a dent at his right knee where he said some fellow named Sideswipe banged it. Crash knew it was a risk, but what did he have to loose now?

He waited until the gold mech wasn't paying him attention while he faked stasis lock. Then he reared both legs back to his chest and double kicked Sunstreaker's knee. He heard something pop from the impact and Sunstreaker roared with pain and rage. The gold warrior dropped to his knees and reached out with claw like fingers after Crash.

Panicking, Crash transformed. Something in his shoulder rip, broke, and leaked. He hollered as his pain receptor flared to life. His tires squealed on the metal floor as he leapt down the hall. He nearly tripped this large red and blue mech with a laser rifle in hand as he scooted down the hall.

* * *

"He made it outside." Prowl reported to Optimus Prime fifteen minutes later. "It's amazing at how he did it, but he managed to skirt around the Dinobots, zip through the AerialBots and get outside the Ark." 

"I suppose fear and desperation can help someone do the impossible." Prime was staring down at the small trail of energon left behind their unexpected visitor. "And you say that the only thing he attempted to steal were medical tools?"

"Yes sir, but it could be that it was his first stop." Prowl explained. "Powerglide has managed to trail him to the mountains. He's hiding in a cave and Powerglide is awaiting us now."

"His name is Crash?"

Prowl nodded. "Yes sir, but I'm afraid that name is unfamiliar to Teletraan-1."

"What is your take on him?" Optimus asked Prowl fixing his deep blue gaze on the tactician.

Prowl took a moment to think and said, "Well, due to his disguise ability, which is something Teletraan-1 is also unfamiliar with it, I would say he was a spy."

"However . . ."

"However, he is wounded and seemed quite weak by Ratchet, Jazz, and the twins' description. And very unlike a spy, he went for the medical bay for tools instead of Teletraan-1 for information."

"Ratchet reported that he was trying to remove a stake from his shoulder." Optimus returned his gaze to the trail of energon. "Tell Powerglide to monitor him, but do not engage. I'm on my way, but I'm taking Ratchet and Jazz with me."

Prowl eyed his leader and said, "No one else?"

Optimus shook his head and said, "This isn't a Decepticon here. This is a hurt and scared bot we're dealing with."

* * *

Crash could feel it. His body was stopping, not dying, stopping. 

He huddled against the darkness, wedged between two large rocks and the wall. It was dry and he kicked up dust whenever he had the strength to move. His shoulder was nothing but one big blotch of pain on his being. His energon, his life, was leaking from him and all he could do was gather up the pink fluids with his fingers and suck them clean. Recycling his own energon.

It was gross, he knew it. However, it was what was keeping him from that edge of where he knew there was no coming back from.

What the slag was he going to do now? They were outside, he could hear them. It was hard to move his legs and his arms were slowly becoming that way too. He called his Shooter from subspace and held it clutched in his hand at his side.

His shoulder was starting to stop hurting, which was a double edge sword. The wound wasn't hurting him, but he knew that it was a very bad sign. His pain receptors had shut down.

When a Transformer is loosing energy, lesser functions of his body start to shut down to conserve energy. It's small things at first, like pain receptors, chronometer, tactile sensors, access to subspace, and small functions that can be done without. Then larger things are taken. His vocaliser, optics, transformation relays, and then his ability to move.

One last Jolt before he was unable to move.

There was a sound from the entrance of the cave. Dreaded fear assailed him and made him sob. His optics were starting to fail, but he could make out a large transformer making his way over the rocks toward him.

"St . . .stay . . ." Crash knew it was futile, but survival instinct override logic. "Stay away."

"I'm not going to hurt you." A voice said. The voice was like soft rumble, but very strong. The Autobot stopped and held up his hands to show he held no weapon.

Crash didn't believe him. That's what they always say when they came for you like this. Come quietly and you won't be harm.

Crash lifted the shooter upward to his face. If he was going out, then he wanted to go out Jolted.

"What is that?" The transformer asked him. He wasn't able to make out the stranger's color scheme, but he could tell that he had a warrior mask beneath his optics.

"Something to help me not care . . ..what you do to me." Crash's hand shook as he held it to his eye.

"That won't help you. But this will." The stranger held out a medium size energon cube.

Crash sucked in air in shock and he realized his hand was reaching out for it. The stranger was leaning forward with the cube to hand it to him. He snatched his hand away as if he had been about to stick it into a churning fan. "No, no, no, I know this game . . .no . . .no, leave me alone."

"It's not a game." The stranger said as he set the cube on the dirt. He lowered to kneel and he pushed the cube closer to Crash till it was within his reach. "Take the cube. It'll help."

Crash stared at the cube. It was medium size, but it was what could be what separated him from apparent death. He reached out, his optics never leaving the shadowy form of the stranger, and drew the cube to him. He downed it in three gulps and his system divided it up to share among his functions that needed it most. His shoulder started to hurt again as his pain receptors came back on.

He groaned, his feet, now able to move again, shifted. Dust was kicked up in small clouds and he was able to see the stranger better. He was red, white, and blue and with his face mask he looked like a warrior. Crash could feel a sense of power and authority from this stranger and he shifted away from him.

"Will you allow my friend to look at your shoulder?"

At first Crash wasn't sure he heard correctly. "What? You mean . . .that medic?"

"Yes, he's put back together almost all the Autobots under . . ."

"No."

"No?"

"No. . ." Crash shifted further away, but the boulder at his side stopped his efforts. He would have to move around the boulder to move further away from the stranger.

"Why not, son?" The stranger edged closer to him.

Crash fished for a reason and said, "He's mad at me. He's mad that I tried to steal his tools . . ."

"He has never let his feelings toward anyone influence his medical skills, you can take my word on that."

Crash shook his head. "No."

He waited for the stranger to call him an idiot. He waited for the words: _You idiot. You're in here bleeding to death, slag, you're at death's door and you're going to turn down your only chance for life?_

Those words did not come.

"Why are you so afraid of us?"

The question shocked Crash so much that he couldn't speak. The stranger waited patiently and then said, "Is it because we're Autobots?"

"No."

"Because we're a military unit at war?"

"I . . .yes . . .sort of."

"Are you afraid of your own kind?"

" . . .yes . . ."

The silence swallowed that answer, that one truthful answer. Crash's lips components trembled and the stranger was still as the darkness.

"Crash, will you let me carry you outside? Ratchet is waiting with some tools to help you, but he has the necessary equipment to remove the stake in his medical bay."

"Who are you?"

"Optimus Prime."

Crash felt his world swirl around him. "Then . . .you can . . .keep them from . . ."

"No one wants to hurt you." Prime said shifting closing to him. "Sunstreaker just got . . .out of control. He's like that sometimes, but I promise you that he will not harm you."

"I don't . . .no . . .I. . ."

A large blue hand gingerly touched his arm. "Let's go."

Crash didn't protest as Optimus Prime lifted him off the dirt and carried him back into the cool night air.

Outside waiting, was Jazz, Powerglide, and an irritable Ratchet. Ratchet stepped forward as soon as Optimus emerged with the wounded and checked the shoulder.

"Slag, kid, you tore open a fuel line by trying to rip this out. I don't know where the slag you got your anatomy knowledge from, but get your frickin' money back." His fingers gently probed the edges of the wounds and came away sticky with energon. "Gotta get 'im back to the Ark and get this slagin' branch out before he can energize enough for further treatment."

"Very well." Optimus handed Crash over to Ratchet who didn't look happy about the exchange. Crash watched as Optimus Prime transformed into a huge red truck with a long trailer. The trailer doors opened and he said, "Get in."

Ratchet, carrying Crash, went in and set him on the floor and continued to monitor the wound. Jazz followed him and settled on the opposite wall.

"Powerglide, go back and tell Prowl we have Crash and to prep the medical bay for surgery and repair."

"Roger, Prime." Powerglide transformed and blasted off to follow orders.

Prime shut the doors and rolled on back toward the Ark. Ratchet called a scanner from subspace and checked the area around the stake "It's in there real good. I might have to remove the arm to remove it without breaking something else."

Crash silently groaned. That meant he would be put in stasis lock and he didn't want to be unconscious around these strangers. He watched Ratchet working with dread and jumped whenever the medic tried to touch the wound with a tool.

"Hold still!" Ratchet barked at him when he tried to shift away when Ratchet attempted to take a sliver of wood caught in his servo.

"Crash, tell me about how ya met Margery." Jazz said coming forward to distract him from Ratchet's "tender" care.

"Mar . . .I don't know that name." Crash clipped.

"Aw, hey, now don't tell me ya gonna clam up like her. We know you hang out at her place." Crash didn't respond. "You wanted to save her bacon when that wacko pulled his gun on 'er, didn't ya?"

Crash shifted uncomfortably.

"Hold the slag still before I deactivate you and make you hold still." Ratchet growled.

"She's not in trouble or gonna get arrested." Jazz tried to get him to open up.

Crash still wouldn't admit that he knew her. He looked away from the black and white Porsche.

"Then at least tell us about the kids. We gotta report from the cops in Missouri about a car with your color scheme with a kids pulling a heist in a roadside gas station."

"That was not my fault!" Crash surged to sit up on his good shoulder and Ratchet yelled with frustration. "Those little glitches did that on their own! I said, "You got money" and the little bastards said yes they did. So I pull over to this . . ."

"Keep going. This is the most words you yapped since I've known ya." Jazz encouraged happy to break someone's shell.

Crash's optics lit up with horror. "Oh, no."

* * *

Bumblebee and Spike pulled up at the Portland Park later that night in search of three kids left in the park by Crash earlier that day. At first, they didn't find the little Trio of Terror until Spike looked up into the jungle gym where a small little fort with a slide was built. Sleeping together in a corner was Jasina, Freda, and Charlie huddled together. 

"I found them." Spike climbed up into the fort. Bumblebee came over to stand at the bottom of the ladder. "Give me a second to wake them up. I don't want to scare them."

He crawled over to the smallest one, Jasina. He touched her shoulder and whispered. "Hey, wake up. Crash . . ."

A sparkling taser appeared in a fully awake Freda's hand and slammed into the side of his neck. Spike howled with agony as the stun gun sent jolts of agony through his neck, shoulder, and face. When Freda yanked the device away, he collapsed to the floor convulsing in agony.

"Ain't no pedos gonna get me or my sister!"

* * *

Crash looked up at the light overhead while Ratchet made preparations with the needed tools. A human, Sparkplug, was going to help out while Sideswipe, the red Autobot, was going to be standing by as a guard. It was Prowl's recommendation and Red Alerts demand that a guard be posted just in case Crash isn't as he seemed. 

Thoughts of what could happen to him while he was out was terrifying him. What if this Ratchet failed to save him on purpose in retaliation for attempted raiding of his medical bay? What if they put a bomb inside him and use it to make him work for them with his unique disguise field? What if they take it out altogether? He had depended on this function to save his aft many times. He needed it.

"Okay, we're ready." Ratchet pulled up a small wheel table with an assortment of tools.

Crash took one look at the tools and his nerve broke. "No! Get away!"  
He pushed himself up, ignoring the protesting gears in his shoulder. Ratchet grabbed him and pushed him back down, but Crash threw off his arms.

"Slagit, boy, what the hell are you doing?" Ratchet yelled.

"Get away!"

Crash swung his legs over the edge away from Ratchet, nearly stepping on Sparkplug. The heavy human threw himself to the side away from the huge brown feet. Sideswipe clutched at the terrified bot's arm and Crash panicked.

He threw himself backward away from Sideswipe's grip and his hand hit the tools. His fingers wrapped around a laser scalpel.

* * *

It had been hell for Margery since Crash left. She missed the giant robot terribly. His friendship was the first good thing to happen to her in a very long time and she was angry and hurt that it would be taken away from her so soon. No, not taken away, he left. And that was what hurt most of all. 

Dad had said he would be back, but he never came back.

Mom said would be out soon, but when eight-year-old Margery went into the kitchen to check on her mother, she was hanging from a wire tied to the ceiling rafter.

Grandma said they would always be together, but she had sent Margery to the institution.

People leave. People always leave.

She had hoped he would be different since he wasn't human. She supposed she was wrong.

She felt like something was missing now that Crash was gone. Watching t.v. wasn't fulfilling without someone to discuss the characters, the plot, or the situation. He would ask questions on the human culture and she would answer them to the best of her ability. It wasn't fun to laugh at J.J.'s antics on Good Times or howl at Cartman's schemes on South Park alone. In fact, it wasn't fun having Direct TV anymore.

She found herself calling her grandmother more, just to talk to someone she knew loved her. Crash didn't love her, he left. He didn't come home. This wasn't his home after all.

The kids didn't come around any more. Mom must have left town with them . . .or the Dad killed them.

She was asleep when the phone rang. She groaned as she sat up and stared down the narrow hall to the living room part of the trailer. She reached over the edge of the bed for the wooly socks she had dropped. She pulled them on and stumble sleepily down the hall.

It might be the nursing home calling to tell her that Grandma Rose had died.

She pressed the receive button and a soft rumbling, but strong voice spoke. "Hello, is this Margery Kayla?"

"Speaking." She said rubbing her eyes with the gloves she pulled on after her wooly socks.

"This is Optimus Prime of the Autobots." The voice say and Margery felt her eyes go wide. "Are you there?"  
She realized she had been staring at the phone in shock. "Uh . . yeah . .Yes sir, I'm here. . . " Usually when she received a phone call in the middle of the night like this, her phone manners weren't worth spit, but however, this was the leader of a race that stomp the hell out of trailer if they so wished. So a little politeness wouldn't hurt in this case.

"We're trying to help your friend, Crash."

They got him. "Crash?"

"Yes, but he won't let us help him. He's . . .he's in the medical bay with a laser scalpel and he won't let anyone near him. He's wounded and running low on energy. Our chief medic believes he won't last if this keeps up."

"What happened? How did . . .he end up in Oregon?"

Optimus gave her a short version of how Crash snuck into the Ark to steal medical tools and how he was chased out, found, and brought back for medical treatment. But he panicked before the procedure could begin and kept everyone at bay with a laser scalpel.

"My God." She whispered in sheer disbelief. "Why are you callin' me?"

"We're hoping you could talk to him. Tell him to let us treat him and not to be afraid."

Margery bit her lip and said, "You really want to help him, right?"

There was a second of silence and he said, "Of course. He's hurt and needs help. How can we not help him?"

Margery bit her lip. She remembered all the news reports of the Autobots saving human lives from the Decepticons and when last year's hurricane came through Florida, they were there to help find survivors and carry people to safety. They saved more lives than the National Guard could have alone.

"Let me talk to him, but I can't promise if I'll be much help."

* * *

Crash was sitting in the corner with laser scalpel in hand. He was too weak to stand again and Ratchet was tending to Sideswipe's cut arm. Ratchet threw scathing looks at the bot in the corner as he finished up repairing Sideswipe's arm and turned to Crash. 

"You better realized that you ain't going to last long like that." Ratchet said very coolly.

"Just stay away from me." Crash held up the scalpel for the 100th time since he picked it up off the tray.

Optimus Prime had come in to try to talk Crash out of the scalpel, but it did no good. Crash refused to give up his weapon and simply told Prime if he came within cutting range to watch out.

"Son, I thought we talked about this back in the cave." Prime had held out his hands again showing he held no weapons.

"You're just trying to give me the nice act to get me under so you can take my disguise function." Crash had snapped backing further into the corner.

"No, if we wanted that, then we wouldn't bring you here. We would have destroyed you and brought the pieces back."

"Then you're going to reprogram me! I won't do it! I rather die than stop being me!"

Optimus looked at him and said, "What happened to you to make you not trust anybody like this?"

Crash refused to answer. Optimus ordered that no one came into the medical bay without his orders and that Ratchet and Sideswipe stay to keep Crash from harming himself or others or until he gives up the scalpel and give himself up for treatment.

Sideswipe twisted around on the exam table when Ratchet set away the tools used to repair him. "So . . .what do you think of Earth?"

"Wh . . .what?" Crash said figuring that the Lamborghini would try to get him to give up the scalpel.

"How long you've been on Earth?" Sideswipe asked dangling his legs over the edge of the table.

"A week." Crash caught himself answering.

"What do you think?"

"Uh . . .why are you asking me this?" Crash tightened his grip on the scalpel and looked around incase the red warrior was trying to distract him from an impending attack.

"Just curious." Sideswipe replied.

"No, he isn't." Ratchet snapped as he put away the tools. He glared at the red warrior and the disguise specialist. "He wants to recruit you in a slaggin' prank because of your talent."

Sideswipe gave Ratchet a mocking wounded look. "Me? I would never . . ."

"I saw the look in your optics when you found out that he had imagery distortion generator which would allow him to look like anyone he chose." Ratchet snatched out some more tools and slammed them onto a new tray. "I can see it now. You'll have him go out into the city as Perceptor acting like a damn fool."

"HEY!" Crash yelled. "I got a scalpel here!"

"We slaggin' know that!" Ratchet yelled his hands tightly around the handles of particularly sharp tools as if he wanted to use them on Crash in not so medically ways. "And that is MY scalpel, you little bastard."

"Bastard?"

"Human word." Ratchet muttered as he set a tray with fresh tools on the exam table. "Now put that thing down and get on this table!"

"I'll cut you!" Crash threatened.

Ratchet stared livid at the brown and green transformer. "You cut me with my own tools, so help me, I will snatch that stake outta you and shove it down your throat you little . . ."

"Ratchet!" Optimus walked in carrying a comlink in hand. His heavy gaze was on Crash as he held out the comlink. "Crash, there's someone who wants to talk to you."

He tossed the small black com and it landed at Crash's feet. He looked at it puzzled when he heard a buzzing voice.

"Crash? It's me. Margery."

"Margery?" He picked up the com. "Margery, where are you?"

"Right where you left me." She said angrily. "And you lied to me. You didn't say shit about going to Oregon!"

"Margery, listen I didn't want you . . ."

"You didn't want me to know or for me to worry? It doesn't matter, you lied."

"I . . .I didn't want to . . ."

"Forget it. I'll scream at you about it later, Right now, put the damn scalpel back where you got it from."

Crash looked up at Optimus Prime and said, "Margery, I don't . . ."

"Crash, listen, you've been here for only a week. Well, the Autobots have been on Earth for years and they have done nothing, but save lives. How hurt are you?"

His shoulder had been in agony since his pain receptors came back on. "Very bad."

"Then let them help you. Crash, I know you're like me. You don't trust them, but we really don't have a choice right here. You got to let them help you. It's your only chance."

"Margery, what if they reprogram me?"

"Reprogram?"

"Change who I am. I'll stop being the Crash you know."

"Then I'll come up there and remind you of who you are. I'll slap the reprogramming out of ya if I have to."

"You'll come here?"

There was a long minute of silence and she said, "Yeah. In fact, as soon as I get off the phone, I'm going out the door."

He didn't understand why, but he felt so relieved to know she was coming. In fact, he was happy. "Margery, that would mean a lot to me."

"Okay, but ya gotta promise that you're going to drive me back, okay?"  
"Yeah, I . . . .I will do that."

"Good. Now give Optimus Prime the phone and give him the scalpel too. Let them do what they got to, okay?"

Crash would have rather talked with her some more, but he said, "Okay. I . . .really look forward to seeing you."

"Me too, honey, me too."

He held out the phone and the scalpel handle out. Optimus stepped forward and accepted both. The tension in the room bled out as Crash tried to get to his feet, but fell back on his aft. Sideswipe came forward and hauled him to his feet and half carried him to the exam table. Ratchet kept the tray of tools out of Crash's reach as he made more preparations to put Crash offline for the much needed surgery.

Optimus spoke into the comlink. "Thank you, Miss Kayla. You've really helped us out."

"Just don't do anything that'll hurt him, okay." The nervous voice on the other end replied.

"We won't harm him. And we will not reprogram him against his will, that is against Autobot morals."

"Thanks."

"Are you really coming to Oregon?"  
"Might as well, if only to see him and make him feel better."

"You're a good friend. I could send someone to . . ."

"No, I'll be okay. I'll just take the bus. Tell him it'll be two days before I can get there. Just have someone waiting for me at the bus station for me."

"I can do that."

"Well, tell him I'll see him when I get there. Bye."

The comlink buzzed when she hung up. Optimus Prime subspace it and watched as Ratchet put Crash offline and began the operation.

He later received a radio call from Bumblebee telling him that the kids had tased Spike and he was at the hospital being treated for taser burns.


	8. Treatment and Attack with a Bullet

Margery reveals hidden feelings toward a character and Crash gets to know the other Autobots. Be nice. I took time to write these chapters, you can take time to write a one sentence review.

* * *

Margery wasn't able to walk right out the door as she had expected. She took a quick sponge bath from the bathroom sink; throw on a clean pair of jeans, long sleeve shirt with loose sleeves and a pair of black gloves. She got out her own black Nikes and last, but not least her black purse containing her handgun and a can of mace. Let's not forget tampons.

She checked her cash stock and she had over two hundred which should be more than enough for bus fare, food, and drugs from Michaels. Which meant she had a hike to take.

By the time she got to Michaels house it was 6:00 in the morning and still dark. He answered the door in his boxers hanging low on his hips. He was not exactly a bad sight to see like this. He was built enough to look attractive and his hips had a nice v-shape. His dark hair was unruly and his blue eyes, a darker shade than hers, were swollen from sleep.

He blinked at her and then said, "Damn, bitch, you know what the fuck time it is?"

She checked her watch. "6:07."

He rubbed his eyes and she got to snatch a peek at his hips. He had a nice dick to go with them. She would have liked to place her hands on them and just . . .Fuck this shit. Dammit, dammit, dammit, why the hell couldn't this good looking fucker put on a damn shirt before answering the damn door.

"You running a whore house too?" She asked in her usually tone she reserved for him. "If not, then put on a damn shirt. I'm paying for drugs not some damn dick."

"I'm the one who pays you for some lip." Michaels retorted. "You here this early for business?"

Margery shrugged and kept her eyes on his face and not his smooth chest. "Yeah, I'm going somewhere."

"Where to?"

She was going to call her grandmother anyway and the town would know anyway. "Oregon."

Michaels' eyes went wide. "Oregon? Why the hell you wanna go there?"

"Got a friend there. He's undergoing surgery and would like for me to hold his big hand."

The drug dealer shook his head and said, "I didn't know you had friends."

"Not until I met this guy, anyway, you got the stuff or not?"

"Yeah, I got some. You got the money?"

They did the exchange inside. As Margery was pocketing the stuff into her purse and Michaels said, "Look, you better watch yourself if you go north. The drug dealer there ain't as nice as me and ain't gonna put up with your attitude like I do."

"Aw, I didn't know you cared."

Michaels shrugged. "I don't know. You're one of my regulars. My cash gotta come from somewhere."

Margery suddenly felt warm and it wasn't just in her panties anymore. Michaels leaned forward and she caught herself leaning forward too. His lips touched hers . . .

_a large man with a looped over belt in hand standing in a child's bedroom door wearing dark jeans and an undershirt and looking furious_

"NO!" She shoved him away him away from her. She turned on her heel and marched to the door. She felt Michaels' confused eyes on her back as she went outside. And she could still feel them as she headed down the street to the bus station.

* * *

Crash came online with everything intact along with his mind. He sat up and checked his shoulder. It was completely repaired and the pain was gone. He moved his arm easily now without protest from his shoulder. It felt really good.

"Feeling better?"

Ratchet was standing nearby checking a monitor with his status signs on it. At his side set a tray with a few energon cubes on it. Crash hoped that they were for him.

"Much."

"When was the last time you had a diagnostic? Or better yet, a tune up?"

Uh oh. Transformers had to get check ups too just like humans. Humans go to make sure they were healthy while transformers went to stay healthy. Their parts were either replaced as needed, wires checked for fraying, everything tightened and secured and so forth. It was something done either regularly or every other year.

When Crash didn't answer, Ratchet gave him a hard look. "Answer me, boy."

Crash shifted uncomfortably and said, "Since . . .since before . . .the . . .war started . . ."

"Son, you better not be talkin' about the Cybertronian war. Please, tell me you're talkin' about one of the wars on this planet." Crash shook his head and Ratchet hissed an oath under his breath. "Then how the hell are you still functioning? All I've done was repair your shoulder and I can see just from that you got problems. I try a scanner, but for some reason, I can't see much of anything. You wanna tell me why?"

"I don't know." Crash said truthfully.

"What have you been doing when you needed repairs?" Ratchet asked almost too afraid of the answer.

Crash couldn't bring himself to look at him straight in the face. "If I have enough and is there's one available on the planet I'm on . . .I get a mechanic to take a look . . ."

"Primus in a dress." Ratchet groaned and covered his face with his hands. "You're not leaving this room until I get a look under that chassis. Here, energize," Ratchet motioned to the energon cubes, "and give it time to flow through your system. I'm going to report to Prime and get some slaggin' backup. You're a mess, boy, one big mess, just like your name. Oh and stay the slag away from my tools."

Crash hungrily downed the cubes in big gulps until they were gone. He sat back and felt good since he got to Oregon. He was going to get fully repaired, Margery was coming, the kids weren't around, and he finally understood he had nothing to fear from the Autobots, for now.

Ratchet came back carrying a tank followed by Sparkplug and a new transformer. This one had a strange face with long light bulbs on either side of his head. He was carrying small hoses with knobs on the ends. Sideswipe was right behind them with a smirk on his face.

"This is Wheeljack, our mad scientist. Don't worry, he knows anatomy so he can help out. You already know Sparkplug, now off the table and transform. I want to see how those relay works. And. . .Sideswipe, why are you in here?"

"Moral support?"

Ratchet grunted some obscenities and said, "Crash, I told you to transform!"

Crash obeyed quickly. He wanted to make up for the trouble he had caused last night. Ratchet knelt to examine something or other. Sparkplug took a look in the back and winced.

"What are all these crumbs doin' back here?" He said opening the door and brushing at the crumbs. There were still empty plastic bags.

"It was those slaggin' kids."

"The same kids who nearly scorched Sunstreaker and tazed my son?"

If Crash could have, he would have shrugged. "I'm sorry. I did say be careful when Prime sent him to get them."

The kids were brought back to the Ark after Spike was realized from the hospital with a big bandage on his neck. The stun gun was confiscated by Bumblebee who handed it over to Prowl when he returned with the kids and an irritable Spike.

"You coulda gave us more warnin', though." Sparkplug said grudgingly.

"Ya wouldn't have believed me."

"Did they do that to your hood?" Ratchet tapped the dented hood and eyed the broken windows.

"No, Margery did that with a bat."

Everyone looked at him as if they were wondering if they heard wrong.

"Waitaminute, I thought you and this Margery were friends?" Wheeljack said.

"Well, this was before we became friends. She thought I belong to some guy that came to tag her trailer."

"What's this?" Sparkplug looked in the front seat. "What this red stain here?" He rubbed it with three fingers and held it close to his face. "It looks like blood."

"Blood?" Crash nearly transformed right then and there. He saw enough t.v. to know that blood was a human's circulation fluid. "But Margery . . .Margery was the last person to sit there."

Sparkplug stared at his hand in dawning horror. "Was she . . .did she . . .seem hurt when she sat there?"

"No! She seemed alright! I didn't know she was hurt! She shouldn't come if she herself is wounded!"

Ratchet was watching Sparkplug's face twist with sick horror. "Sparkplug, what is it?"

"I need to go wash my hands."

* * *

The red stain was removed with asepticare and hot water and soap. Sparkplug had to give a brief description of a woman's natural cycle before Crash was assured that Margery was not hurt nor was she not able to come.

Ratchet and Wheeljack were disgusted of course. Sideswipe whistled and said, "I'll never be able to look at Carly the same way again." Ratchet finally chased him out with a welder.

They thought that would be the most disgusting thing they would face during the exam. It wasn't.

Crash was placed back on his back and taken offline for the internal exam. They removed his chest plate and recoiled in horror. Grime, dirt, dust, grease, and oil had collected amongst his gears and servos and parts. There was even rust to be found amongst the grime. To Wheeljack and Ratchet and Sideswipe, it was the equivalent of human doctors seeing tar on a patient's organs. Even to Sparkplug's eyes it looked nasty.

"How in Great Cybertron is this kid able to function like this?" Ratchet said amazed and disgusted.

"Look at this." Wheeljack pointed at some gears. "They're notched up. These are going hafta be replaced."

Ratchet took in the whole mess that was Crash and groaned. "The whole kid might as well be replaced. He's a mess, a complete mess."

"It musta been hurting him." Sparkplug speculated. He was standing on the table right beside Crash's torso. "To function like this, I mean."  
"I can't see what all needs to be fixed from all this scrap . . .oh my slagging Primus . . .look at this . . ." Ratchet reached inside Crash almost up to where his neck was hooked into his torso. His finger tips came away blue and very sticky. Now that he pointed out, the others notice the patches of dried blue stuff amongst the parts around the upper chest area.

"What is that?" Sparkplug said staring at the blue goo.

"Is that . . . ?" Wheeljack stared gravely at the substance.

"Jolter. A slaggin' fraggin' jolter." Ratchet shook his head and wiped his fingers on an available cloth from the tray at his elbow. "The kid's anatomy is the least of his problems."

"Whadaya think? Should we just scrap him and tell Optimus he died on the operating table." Wheeljack offered.

Ratchet sent Wheeljack a beseeching look and said, "Can't. We'll be found out and get arrested. Anyway, the first thing we gotta do is clean all this slag out so's we can see what we're doing."

"This is gonna take hours, Primus, maybe days."

"Radio Perceptor then. He may be a scientist but he does know some anatomy and he'll be an extra pair of hands. If he says he's busy with some experiment, tell 'im to ome on over and try to explain how a jolt addicted transformer with enough grime and scrap in his parts to create an entire planet is able to function at all."

* * *

Margery phoned the nursing home when she got to Montgomery. She had enough change for the payphone and even had an old phone card. Grandma Rose was very shocked when Margery told her she was going to Oregon.

"Why on God's green Earth would you want to move there?"

"I'm not moving. I'm going to visit a friend. He's sick and he wants me there for support." She left out that the friend was a transformer. "He's underwent some serious surgery. He was so freaked out that Op .. . .that someone called me to calm him down."

Grandma Rose was quiet for a second. "Is this a friend you met at the institution?"

"No, not really." Margery couldn't bring herself to outright lie to her grandmother. "I met him back home. He went to Oregon for something and he got hurt. I mean, what's wrong with me wanting to be a good friend and go see him?"

She knew what was wrong. She had no friends, not since she was eight. She hadn't been very friendly to others as a rule.

"When will you be back?"

"I . . .I don't know. He's going to give me a ride home when he's better. He . . .he should have some friends I should stay with until he's able to tran . . .drive."

"I don't approve of this." Grandma Rose said. "You're a young lady. You shouldn't travel alone and not with your . . .your condition . . . and it's dangerous, especially in Oregon what those robots . . .I'm not saying anything against those Autobots, God Bless them, they help so many people, but it's those Decepticons that worry me. I thank God every night that we don't have any of those big power plants down here that they would want."

Margery couldn't help, but smile. "Unless they figure out a way to get energy from a cow or cotton, we shouldn't worry. I'm not going to any power plants anyway. And unless a Decepticon gets on the bus, I'll be fine."

A Decepticon did get on the bus the next day, just outside of Oregon.

* * *

"Okay, Crash, move around and tell us how to feel."

Crash moved his head. He just came back online and Ratchet was standing over him looking tired. His white chassis was stained and dirty with dirt and grime. He sat up and looked around. Sparkplug was on the floor looking exhausted and wet with filthy stains on his clothes. There was a brown smear long one cheek and his hair looked wet. Wheeljack and new red transformer were in the same condition. What happened?

In fact, he noticed that the floor was wet with long puddles of dirty water and sludge gathered in piles against the far wall. What happened?  
Maybe he asked it out loud because Wheeljack said, "See all that scrap against the wall? That all came outta you."

Crash stared at him shocked. "No way."

"We've been here for the last 8 hours power spraying all the grit and grime out of you." Sparkplug rubbed his eyes with a clean hand. He had had to use clothes because the solution transformers used for cleaning were too harsh for human skin.

"I said for you to move around, boy. Now MOVE!" Ratchet said at the end of his patience with this robot that made a mess of his medical bay since he got here.

Crash swung his legs over the edge of the table and stood on his feet. He felt good. He lifted his arms and noticed how they moved with such ease. It was as if he was a person who had lived with arthritis in his limbs all his life and is suddenly able to move without pain.

"This feels so good." Crash lifted each of his legs. "I don't hear that sound anymore when I lift my right knee."

"Somehow a rock got in there." Wheeljack replied.

"Thanks, you have no idea . . ."

"Please, don't thank us quite yet." Perceptor shook his head. "We still have to repair your internal structure. And that will take some time, maybe days."

"Oh." Crash said taking a seat back on the table. "Do you want me to lie back down and let you . . ."

Moans and protests went up from the mechanics. Sparkplug muttered something about being 'tired as hell' and Ratchet shook his head and said, "Noooooo . . .we're going to wash, recharge, and reenergize. You . . .just go in the rec room and energize, you had more than enough recharge."

Crash slid off the table, his feet splashing in the puddles as he headed for the door. Ratchet called after, "Don't go outside, don't do anything rough, watch t.v. or read or something. And for Primus's sake, stay the slag away from Sideswipe!"

Crash paused at the doorway and said, "Which way to the rec room?"

Ratchet growled at him the directions and Crash made a hasty exit. He had the feeling that Ratchet wanted to take a break from him. Which was fine with him because the old medic scared him.

When he entered the rec room, optics were on him and he froze like a deer in the headlights. Others looked away, but gave him furtive glances as he braced himself and headed for the energon dispenser. He felt himself being watched with scrutiny as he collected an energon cube and carried it with him to an empty table far away from the others. He nursed from the cube and his eyes took in the various shapes and sized of the Autobots off duty.

He hoped Margery would come today, but he knew it was a two day trip. There was a large monitor against the far wall with Home Improvement on. Margery didn't like this shows, there was nothing on at this time of day that she liked. She would put on a DVD for them to watch at this . . .

"So, is it true?"

Crash jumped in his seat and looked over to see a red Autobot and a large white and black Datsun. Crash stared at them confused. "What?"

It was the red one that spoke. "Is it true that you locked Ratchet out of his own medical bay and then threatened to cut him with his own laser scalpel?"

Uh oh. They weren't happy about the trouble he caused. He braced himself to run, wishing he hadn't chosen a table so far away from the door. Maybe he could tip the table over on their feet take a disguise to confuse them giving him enough time to run for safety. "Yeah . . .I didn't . . ."

The taller one's optics lit up with mirth and he said, "And how are you still functioning? If I did anything like that, Ratchet would take me apart and sell what's left to the Salvation Army."

Both Autbots chortled together while Crash looked on. It slowly dawned on him that these two weren't coming to dismantle him after all.

"Man, you shoulda seen the way you flew through Grimlock's legs like that . . ." Powerglide shook his head. "It took him five minutes to figure out where you gone and by that time you had the . . .the . . AerialBots scattered . . ."

He doubled over laughing so hard as the image of Slingshot's stunned face as he went spiraling through the air when Crash slammed through him in car mode to get outside the Ark.

Crash shrugged and said, "Well, I was scared, I didn't know there was so many of you."

The last thing he said some what sobered them up. He did after all try to infiltrate their base to steal, but Optimus Prime did call a meeting last night to pacify curiosity or any ill feelings toward Crash. He explained that Crash was NOT a Decepticon spy, in fact, he was an empty trying to survive. Nothing was stolen and there was no damages except those done to Crash and the twins which were done in self defense and were easily repaired by Ratchet. Crash would be staying until further notice and he was to be treated like a guest and any ill will toward him will be answered with a few days in the brig.

There were some Autobots who still weren't happy with the new comer. Cliffjumper firmly believed him to be a Decepticon spy and Brawn wasn't too pleased that this guy was able to take disguises. And Red Alert hasn't stop talking about his opinion about the whole deal.

But there was someone who was happy to find someone who can look like anyone he wanted. And here he came.

Sideswipe swaggered in with a cheery grin on his face and that grin grew wider as the Cheshire Cat's when he spotted Crash. He had plans. Plans that involved a certain brown and green Neutral that could take the images of others.

He walked over to the table and yanked out a chair and planted himself there across from Crash. "What's up?"

Crash leaned back away, feeling a bit caved in by the three Autobots. Why couldn't he drink his energon alone? "Nothing."

"So tell me about the chango act." Sideswipe leaned forward. "Can you do anybody?"

"Well . . ." Crash saw no reason to hide anything. If they wanted to know, they would have Ratchet find out when he went back for further repairs. "Not anybody. I can't do humans, they're too small. If I did, they would be my size."

"So you couldn't do Gears?" Sideswipe's grin faltered just a bit, but returned.

"Who's Gears?" Crash asked as he sipped from his cube. "I have to see them and hear them talk if I can fully take their shape and voice."

"Does anything turn it off?"

"Yeah. If I run low on energy it'll go off or if I touch something other than my feet on the ground it will become distorted. So I have to subspace something before I use the field because I can't carry anything around with the field up. Even subspacing causes interference."

"Mirage's field isn't that sensitive." Powerglide mused.

"Mirage?"

"He has a generator field, but it turns him invisible." Sideswipe answered. "Could you do . . .Optimus Prime?"

Yes, he could. Optimus was big, but he wasn't too big. Crash looked around and decided that if Sideswipe asked for a demo, he wasn't going to get one because the last thing he wanted to do was cause problems by having everyone think he would disguise as their leader. "Yeah, but not right now. I still have to be repaired."

"No problem. It can wait."

"What can wait?" Powerglide asked already knowing full well what the red Lamborghini was talking about.

"I was thinking along the lines of let's say Optimus Prime ordering Tracks to take a roll in the mud or Ratchet to come skipping into the rec room singing Like a Virgin."

Crash nearly choked on his energon and shook his head. "No way. That's . . .that's too mean. Ratchet spent the last eight hours cleaning me out and I don't know this Tracks, but he hasn't done anything to me. And Optimus Prime is too . . .well . . .I don't want to make him look bad because he's really helped me out."

Sideswipe stared, his CPU crashing. He had never heard of his pranks being referred to as mean before. Nor did it enter his processor that this guy would not be willing to participate in a prank.

"Ah, I get it." Sideswipe's right optic went out in a wink. "Sure, of course you won't do those things."

Crash shook his head. "I mean it. I'm not going to use my field to pull pranks on people."

"Of course."

"No. I won't do it."

"I know what you mean."

"Sideswipe," Trailbreaker spoke up, "I think he means it."

"Aw c'mon!" Sideswipe slapped the table. "You're telling me that the thought of using your . . .GIFT . . .to pull the greatest pranks that I can imagine never processed through your CPU? Do you have anything idea of what I could do with that ability? I could get away with so much . . ."

"Hey! This place is big!"

Oh no.

"Hey, there's Crash!"

Primus, what did I do to offend you that you deem it fit to punish me like this.

Carly came in herding the kids into the rec room. They chattered as they came toward them.

"I thought you was in their jail!" Freda said pointing at Crash.

"Yeah, getting homofied."

"He's not pretty enough."

Crash shook his head and said, "Why did you say 'getting homofied' with so much hope in your voice."

* * *

Margery was still asleep on the bus when the bus stopped to allow passengers to get on and off the bus. She spent the whole ride staring out the window and ignoring the other passengers. People chatted, slept, read, drew, spoke on cell phones, and other various things people did on long bus trips. She phone Grandma Rose to let her know that she hadn't been killed, mugged, or raped, then got high, and then got on the bus that would take her into Oregon.

She slept while new passengers piled into the bus. One of the passengers was a young man name Nathan Edwards who had just gotten a job at a power plant twenty miles outside of Portland. He also had a dark blue and white tape deck player that he just so happened to find on his door step.

Nathan made his way to the back of the bus and chose a seat behind the sleeping thin girl with very dark hair. His friend was with him and they chatted and laughed at each other's jokes. He set the tape deck to balance on the back of the empty seat beside the girl. He held it in place with one hand and let it play their favorite radio station on a very low volume.

Margery woke up from the music and groaned against the glass.

_a little girl drawing pictures of flowers and butterflies in the fogged up glass_

She sat up, rubbing her face. Her cheek touched the cool metal of Soundwave's alt mode.

_giant metal robots, all bearing a purple sigil obeying a large silver commander with a fearsome gun mounted on his arm_

Soundwave internally screamed as the human reached into his mind and took information from him.

_characters, thousands, millions, trillions of gold characters dancing all with a meaning, more complex than any Asian language._ _Sequences limitless_

The assault was so unexpected and he was so unprepared that he couldn't get his mental shields up. He received backlash.

_a sobbing human child with black hair and pale blues optics_ _staring at the body of a larger human hanging at the neck from a cord_

Margery opened her mouth in a silent scream as her hands clutched at her seat unable to fathom what she was seeing with her inner eye.

_a planet of metal and steel, robots fighting, dying, killing, warring, slaughtering, small rivers of pink and echoes of terrifying screams. Glory_

_an old human fondling a Earthen religious symbol entwined with vines and ivy on a chain_

_little robots, two human like, two birdlike, and one catlike, precious, loved_

_a human male, dark hair, blue optics, with desired poison, desired body, lust, human sexual ORGANIC LUSTING SEX!_

Soundwave flipped his speaker outward, busting Margery's lip. The hit launched her head over to bang her temple against the glass loud enough to catch everyone's attention. Margery clutched her head and moaned as the images began to drizzle away. She slithered out of the seat and caught herself on the backs of seats as she stumbled to get off the bus.

Soundwave was relieved as the unwanted images bled away, but left a much larger problem he had to contend with. The human had seen a vast amount of information from his databanks or from his being somehow. She had to be stop, killed or collected.

The problem was that Soundwave was unable to identify one human from the next. He could recognize the Witwickys because they were always around the Autobots and had participated in battles before. This human he had never seen before and never got a good look at unless he counted the image of her younger self. The only description he had was black. Black clothes, black hair, blue optics.

His mission had to be forgotten. This was a severe breach of security if the human got away with the information and it seemed more important to pacify the human than it was to infiltrate a power plant to weaken it for an easy raid for waiting Seekers.

He transformed into robot mode, destroying the bus and killing Nathan and his friend.

* * *

Margery headed for the bathroom inside. She needed to shoot up. Her mind was buzzing and shadows of the images slide across her brain. She moaned as she leaned against a wall, she felt so heavy, like she absorbed water through her hair and into her body. She'll feel better once she got heroin into her. The purse carrying her mace and gun bounced against her hip as she made her way to the back of the building.

* * *

"Eject: Ravage. Function: Retrieval."

Ravage received the description of the human from Soundwave's mental transmission and launched out of his master's body. He unfolded into his sleek panther form and dashed through the screaming bodies of humans running to get away from the Decepticon standing amongst the remains of the bus.

He spotted a female wearing a long black dress running inside through the glass doors. He leapt, smashing easily through the glass and landed on the female as the glass fell in slivers of lethal rain onto the floor. The female shrieked and flipped onto her back to bat at the Decepticon's face and neck.

No, her eyes were dark and shape like those humans in the Far East. He snarled into her face, ready to silence her scream with a rip at the throat when his optics spied a black shape going into the ladies room.

Margery was relieved to see the bathroom empty. The speakers over head played a lilting music that was easily ignored. She went into the far stall, but not into the handicap one. She was going to look like a bitch if she made a person in a wheelchair wait to use the restroom while she took drugs.

She went into one of the middle stalls and sat on the toilet. She locked the door and fumbled with her purse. She got out the rubber band chord she sometimes carried and tied it around her arm, right above the crease of her elbow inner arm. While that blood vein was getting big, she got out her syringe and heroin.

A minute later, she was feeling the sweet ball of warmth crawling through her body, like a sweet orgasm. She almost didn't hear the bathroom door being pushed open, but she did notice the metallic like sounds of nails on the hard floor. Someone brought a large dog into the bathroom? A blind person with a Seeing Eye dog? Good thing she didn't take up the handicap stall.

The clicking feet appeared in front of stall. They were black and looked huge, and the shone as if they were made of metal . . .

The stall door tore open, nearly banging her knees and slammed against the inner wall of the stall. She dropped her syringe and nearly shrieked. A large metallic cat stood growling at her at the doorway. She stared, scooting backwards on the toilet seat till her spine hit the pipe.

The cat . . .she knew . . .Ravage . . .but how did she know that name. . .

She giggled. Why the fucking hell was she giggling while death stood on four legs in front of her, she would never know. It had to be the drugs.

Ravage snarled at her and reached forward with his jaws. He closed down around her right wrist and pulled. He wasn't tearing flesh, but he was hurting her enough to let her know that that could still happen if she resisted.

"Wait, stop! No!" She yelped as he pulled her off the toilet seat and onto her knees. Thank God, she was getting high and not really using the toilet. She had to crawl on her knees a bit to keep from having her hand torn off in black jaws. The heroin was blocking her from having visions from the teeth on her flesh so she was able to think clearly.

The thing seemed intent to drag her off, but she reached out for her purse. "Let me get my purse!"

She grabbed it before the thing could say no by yanking on her arm. She reached inside and pulled out the gun. Thumb clicking off the safety, she pressed the barrel against Ravage's left optic.

"Let me the fuck alone, you motherfucking reject from hell."

She pulled the trigger.


	9. Bathroom Stalls

Hey, another chapter with plenty of action in the first pages.

* * *

Optical glass sprayed back onto her. Small slivers nicked her cheeks and she thanked God that none hit her eyes. Ravage released her wrist in a yowl of pain and rage and she shoved herself backwards into the stall, her shoulders hitting the toilet lid.

Ravage shook his head, pink fluid and bits of optical glass sprayed the floor. He lifted his head and his remaining optic flared with rage. This _human _had actually _hurt _him. It took all his power of reasoning and control to stop himself from leaping forward and ripping out the female's throat. Soundwave wanted this human alive if possible and he would not do any less than serve his creator with his entire prowess.

Margery, her hand still on the gun, knew of only one way to go. She launched herself under the wall. Her free hand grasped the toilet in the next stall and hauled herself across the hard floor.

Teeth closed on her ankle and slid her bodily backwards. Her fingers scramble the porcelain toilet, but her gloved hands caught no purchase. Ravage was dragging her out of the stall, his teeth pricking through her pants leg and into skin.

Throughout all of this, she was still feeling pretty good from the heroin.

She caught herself on the wall of the stall. Her upper body was in the next stall while the rest of her was her stall with Ravage pulling on her ankle. If she saw this overhead, and as high as she was, she would have laughed at the situation. But since she was on the bathroom floor, being dragged by a robotic cat, it wasn't funny.

"Let go!" She reared back a foot back and slammed it against Ravage's muzzle. She felt the vibration from the teeth as Ravage released a blood curdling snarl and the teeth sank in, drawing blood. He pulled and Margery wailed as she tucked her elbows against the wall, as his teeth sank in a bit deeper. She noticed that he was let up on her ankle, just a bit . . .

If Ravage wanted to, he could worry her leg like a dog with meat; he was strong enough to rip her leg from its socket. Why drag her . . .shit . . .he wasn't attacking her, he was abducting her.

She took a chance. She ducked her head under the wall with the gun in hand. She kept her other hand on the stall to keep from loosing the game of tug of war, and held up the gun and aimed for Ravage's remaining optic. She didn't know whether the rest of him was vulnerable to bullets, but she already knew his eyes were.

Ravage spotted the gun and knew where it was aiming. He dropped her ankle and leapt back to protect his remaining optic. Margery wasted no time in jerking her legs back and using her whole body to get herself into the next stall. She leaned against the far stall to catch her breath and ease the ache in her limbs from the extreme push and pull to haul her to safety.

She should have kept moving.

"SHHHHHIIIIIIITTTTT!"

Ravage burst through the stall wall, remaining optic blaring with rage and determination. She bent herself nearly in half backwards to kick herself into the next stall and into the next, and then next. Her legs kicked scooting her and hands and gun pulled her by the toilets and the stall walls and doors.

Ravage kept coming through the walls. He wasn't fazed one bit by the well built wooden walls, it was like stepping through a thin silk curtain for him. He was coming through the walls like Casper the Friendly fucking Ghost and there was nothing friendly in the red optic.

She met the wall in the last stall, but if she could get through or under the door she could get outside and run like hell. Her hand reached for the door. . .

As if knowing what she intended, Ravage leapt through the last wall and put his weight against the door slamming it shut. The frame groaned in protest as the very heavy metal cat brushed against it and toward the corned human. She backed away and wedged herself between the wall and the toilet, her gun out before her.

She fired.

A bullet zinged off Ravage's arm, but it might as well been a spit wad for all the notice he gave it.

The optic, go for the fucking optic.

Ravage predicted this and ducked his head and the next bullet rebound off his head between his ears. The rebounded bullet hit the ceiling sending small rain of dust onto them.

Margery pulled the trigger to fire again, but Ravage smacked her hand nearly breaking her arm sending the shot harmlessly through the door.

"Get the hell away from me!" She bucked with her legs kicking at Ravage, but she might as well been kicking an elephant. An elephant wouldn't move and it would piss it off.

Ravage rear up and pinned her shoulders to the wall with forepaws and waited for his creator to come and collect the hard won prize.

* * *

Soundwave monitored Ravage's actions through the special internal link between him and his cassettes. He was angry when the human's primitive weapon harmed his cassette and planned on making her pay with the same result when he got his hands on her. He easily smashed his way into the building and planned on ejecting Rumble to help Ravage haul this unusually troublesome human out of the female's room when a raging voice screeched over the radio.

"SOUNDWAVE! What in Primus's name are you doing?"

Megatron was furious and confused. Soundwave was always the one soldier he knew he could count on to fulfill his part of any plan and execute it to his full abilities. Rarely, no, never has Soundwave blown his cover before hand without good reason. And as far as Megatron could see, there was NO good reason for Soundwave to reveal himself in a public bus transit.

"Security breach. Human has data on all security checkpoints on Earth and Cybertron, locations of power stations, shipments with terror cells, computer security passwords . . ." Soundwave continuing tacking off the information the human had attained.

There was a deepening silence as Soundwave continued and when he finally finished Megatron responded with a voice that was strained with rage, horror, and shock. "How did this _human _get this information?"

Soundwave faltered for a nano-click and only one nano-click. "Human attained information by physical contact with me."

"How on Great Cybertron is THAT POSSIBLE?" Megatron's fury erupted over the radio. "Bring the human to base immediately."

He sounded off and Soundwave's optic band shone with red determination. He had heavily failed his commander and his cause. Not even Starscream could fail this much even on his most treacherous days. The only way to fix this was to obey Megatron's command and bring him the human.

Just then, the AerialBots attacked.

* * *

Ravage lifted his head from his captive pinned beneath him. Margery's kicking and squirming had slid her from the wall and onto her back with Ravage standing over her, paws still heavy and painful weights on her shoulders. She lay on her back and waited for whatever the hell the robot cat was gonna do, but she swore, if he started humping she was going to bite her tongue and bleed to death right there on the floor she swore to God.

Oh, she had tried to kick and hit the damnable thing on her, but it only resulted in her getting sore limbs and hands, Ravage very irritated. If he was going move, it wouldn't because she made him more and that was all there was to it. He was waiting for something, but what?

Fuck it, too bad her purse was back in the stall she had occupied before this Hellcat ruined her moment of being high, or she could be smoking a joint right now. The rubber band was still tied around her arm too and it was starting to hurt as it was still cutting off circulation.

She reached across her ribs toward the rubber band.

Ravage put pressure on her shoulders and growled low in his throat or metal voice thing, whatever the fuck he had. She hissed in pain and said through her teeth, "Shut up. I don't wanna hear that shit."

A flash of teeth. Ravage snapped his fangs barely half an inch from the tip of Margery's nose. He looked down his muzzle with his one optic into her face. She swallowed and untied the rubber band from her arm and let it fall to the floor forgotten.

* * *

The AerialBots wasted no time in forming Superion and Soundwave wasted no time in knowing that the retrieval of the human was impossible now. How was he not able to pick up the approaching Aerialbots until they were almost on top of him? Something was wrong with his telepathy and sensors and the human was the cause. His band flared with inner rage as he fired futilely at Superion.

He was being driven away from the building and away from Ravage. He knew Ravage could take care of himself, but he couldn't bring the human and keep himself from being destroyed. As sure as Autobots were sympathetic fools, Superion would see Ravage taking a human and do everything to save the human, possibly resulting in Ravage's termination.

He sent the order for Ravage to return without the human.

* * *

Margery knew it was fruitless, but dammit, she wasn't going to be kidnap by a robotic cat without saying SOMETHING about it.

"Let me up, please." She said in an annoyed voice.

Ravage backed off her.

Her eyes went wide. Holy shit! Please was the fucking magic word after all!

Ravage gave her a sinister snarl and then slither through the door he had kept her from. She could hear his claws clicking on the tile and the door being knocked open and he was gone as quickly as he came.

She sat up and looked at the destroyed stall walls created by Ravage and rubbed her face. What happened? Yeah, she knew she had been attacked and nearly kidnapped by a robotic cat named Ravage, but why?

She heard sirens coming along. Good, the police would . . .shit . . .she needed to get out of here before they found her weed and heroin and she got arrested yet again for possession. She got to her feet and winced as her body protested with aches and pains. Her ankle was bleed from the shallow bite and no doubt she was all bruised up. If she was seen a paramedic or cop would want to touch her and she wasn't having that. They would see she was high or maybe they would think she was in shock . . .naw, better not risk it.

She hurried back to her original stall and collected her things together into her purse. The gun, rubber band, syringe, and the bottle of heroin was stuffed into her purse and she checked her gun. She had fired off three bullets so she had three left.

As she left she saw herself in the mirror. She looked paler than usual and her eyes were wide. At the corner of her mouth was a streak of blood and she remembered that something busted her in the mouth on the bus. She wiped away the blood on her sleeve because it was black and blood didn't show well on black.

She got out of the bathroom and stood shocked at the destruction caused by the battle between Soundwave and his cassettes and Superion. There was no way that Ravage, no matter how strong he was, could have smashed a huge hole through the building, tore the bus up all to hell, leave huge footprints in the pavement, and have laser burns and holes in the other buildings. There had been another much larger robot around and that scared her.

She started down the street towards where, she didn't know. She just knew she wanted to get away before someone spotted her or started asking questions or Ravage came back to finish what he started.

* * *

Optimus Prime was pleased that Superion chased Soundwave off from the city, but he was unhappy about the devastation caused. People were killed and wounded from the fight, not to mention the damages done to the city. Prowl had just given him the report from AerialBots and the so far damage report, but it was expected to rise as the damages were surveyed and survivors found.

Optimus Prime leaned forward on his desk and made a small frustrated sigh. He wanted to be out there helping the AerialBots clear the damages and find survivors. He felt frustrated that no matter how many times they defeat the Decepticons in the various schemes and plans, they always take more human lives than they could save.

"The police will be sending all evidence and footage as soon as it is compiled together." Prowl ended his report.

Optimus tapped his face mask with a finger and said, "Something isn't right about this attack."

"I agree, sir." Prowl said. "Soundwave is brutal, but he is never this sloppy."

Optimus steeple his fingers together and said, "Is there a report of a human carrying a blue and white tape deck? Took it on the bus with them?"  
"We can have the police ask around from the survivors from the bus." Prowl affirmed. Prowl's mouth was set in a straight line and he said, "The recent power plant twenty miles outside of Portland reported seeing Seekers flying over the area, leaving without firing one shot."

"Do you think Soundwave's original target was the power plant? Another Decepticon raid?"

"Most likely. Same plan, same trick, but it always worked. Soundwave uses his alt-mode to attract a human carrier who takes him into the plant; Soundwave transforms, takes over, preventing the humans from notifying us, and makes it easier for the Decepticons to take over."

"But something went wrong on that bus." Optimus speculated. "Something happened to cause someone as collected and calm as Soundwave to panic and ruin an energy raid, which is usually reserved as Starscream's role."

"We can only speculate until we attain that evidence. It may be possible the answer is in there."

Optimus nodded and said, "It's a good thing that Margery Kayla name isn't among the wounded. And it's just as well that Crash is in stasis getting repaired so he wouldn't hear about this. I'm sure the news would have him worried about his friend."

Prowl nodded and said, "Have you been able to get in contact with the children's parents?"

Optimus shook his head. "No. They're either not there or answering. I even got in touch with Sheriff Gregs, but he isn't able to notify them either."

"Carly is having a hard time with them and I'm afraid after his first meeting with them, Spike isn't much help."

Optimus shook his head. "I had to put Sunstreaker in the brig when he tried to . . .take out the kids. It's so amazing to me at how these children are able to cause so much trouble. They could give the Insecticons a run for their money."

"That could be why the parents won't pick up the phone."

* * *

Margery walked down the street for almost twenty minutes before coming to a McDonald's. People were crowding up the street to be spectators to the cleaup and get a good look at the Autobots helping.

She slipped inside and made a beeline for the ladies room. Here's to hoping she didn't get attacked by a robotic mouse or something. It was a single person restroom so she was able to lock the door and shuck off her jacket. She carefully lifted her shirt and winced at the bruises on her shoulders and knew they were going to look worse after a while.

She took a look at her ankle and saw that it stopped bleeding already. They were deep, but not anything she would have to go to the hospital for. Her wrist had a few nicks on it, but it was fine. Her face had some nicks too, but easily cleaned with a damp paper towel. She raked her fingers through her hair and touched a small bruise on her temple where her head hit the glass on the bus.

She supposed it could be worse. Ravage could have crushed her wrist or ankle in his jaws if he wanted to. But how did she know this? How did she know that it was a he and his name was Ravage? And why the hell was it after her for anyway?

And the number one question on her mind was . . .would he try to get her again?

She didn't know that answer, but she knew what she should do. She needed to get to the Ark as soon as possible. If there was one place on Earth that you were safe from a Decepticon . . .waitaminute . . .how the hell did she know that the cat was from the Decepticons?

Well, it attacked her. Autobot robots did not attack humans.

No, that wasn't the reason. It was something else.

She closed her eyes, her gloves hands clenched on the counter. When the hell did Decepticon pop into her brain?

Gold characters flitted through her inner eyes and she winced as nausea poured through. They were gibberish to her and she had no understanding of them. She did know that there was no way a human could understand them all and the sequences they came in.

She wanted to sit down on the toilet to collect herself, but she was too afraid to. She had to keep moving until she got to the Ark, she'll be safe there. Maybe Ravage just wanted a hostage and since she was along in the bathroom . . .that made sense. It might be a one time thing that happens to one in a million people and she happened to be the unlucky one. What the hell would Decepticons want with her anyway?

* * *

"Explain to me," Megatron's optics gleamed red, almost lighting up the dim control room in crimson rage, "how a flesh creature managed to steal the information from your databanks?"

It was a very rare thing, or perhaps the first time in the millions of years that Soundwave had served under Megatron, that he would be object of Megatron's rage. Starscream was leaning against a control station, his arms cross and a very amused grin spread across his face as he watched Megatron circle the communicator. Oh, this would be a nice show indeed.

Starscream did care about that crucial information about the Decepticons were in the hands of a human, but at least it was through no fault of his own and this was something that Megatron could blame him for one bit. For once, it was Soundwave's mess up, his fault, his screw up, his failure.

Oh, Starscream had always hoped for this. The day when Megatron's most loyal and efficient warrior finally gets the rebuttal of failure from Megatron as he has done so many times.

Soundwave stood tall as always and gave Megatron the details of his failure as if he was giving a report. "Human retrieved the information during physical contact with my shell."

"Physical contact? You mean it _touched _you?" Megatron said in disbelief, his face distorted in frustration which was the same thing as rage for Megatron. "How is that possible?" From the tone of his harsh voice, Soundwave better come up with a good answer or find out how being shot by Megatron's fusion cannon felt like.

"Clairvoyance." Soundwave replied.

"Clair. . . Clairvoyance?" Megatron hissed as if this was something Soundwave was throwing to him to buy time before being destroyed.

Soundwave was quick to give a definition. "A form of extra-sensory perception through which a human could perceive distant objects, persons, or events."

"So this human hold extremely powerful tactile sensors?" Megatron said tilting his head.

"Affirmative, but more complex." Soundwave replied. "Human is able to perceive past events and information of any object she comes in physical contact with."

"So this human is female." Megatron muttered to himself deep in thought. "Soundwave, you are a powerful telepath, how is it, that this human was able to overtake you like this?"

"Because he's weak." Starscream piped from the side feeling that he was quiet for too long.

"Shut up, Starscream." Megatron snapped and turned his attention to Soundwave expecting his explanation.

"The human is an extremely powerful clairvoyant, but her ability is raw, no training or control. She is unable to control or place mental shields to protect herself. Also . . ." Soundwave faltered seemed to brace himself, "she and I were surprised by the contact."

Starscream snorted. "The human took you by surprise? The loyal Soundwave being ambushed by a pathetic flesh creature? So you tell us that you gave her all of vital data because she _accidentally _touched you?"

Megatron kept his ill gaze on Soundwave and said, "So the human is not working for the Autobots . . .could this human do this again to you or to any of the Decepticons?"

"Not to me again." Soundwave said, but his monotone showed a rare trace of emotion: anger. "I will be able to have my mental shields raised. She will not penetrate them."

"But none of us have your ability or your training!" Starscream wailed pushing himself away from the control station. He was about to fly into a torrent of how doomed they all were because of a little object reading human when Megatron's fist collided with his jaw.

Megatron turned back to Soundwave as Starscream collided with the control station and slid to the floor. "Soundwave, tell me, could this human do the same to . . .let's say . . .an Autobot?"

Soundwave's head tilted just the smallest bit. "Affirmative."

"And since you have, or should have, superior mental abilities than this human, you could use your mind reading technique on her while she is doing a reading?" Megatron's optics gleamed, but not with anger.

Soundwave's optics shone red as he understood his master's plan. "Affirmative."

* * *

Margery sneezed. She said excuse me out loud out of reflex and sat on the bench not sure of what to do. Traffic was blocked due to cleanup so no bus and a taxi would he too expensive. And she didn't have enough money to get a room and she sure as hell wasn't walking to Portland. She rubbed her face with gloved hands. Surely they would have another bus available soon.

She had gone back to the bus transit to see the large robots with wings standing amongst the patrol cars and ambulances. She sat well away from there not wanting to draw attention to herself. She was still achy, even taking some Tylenol she bought from a small pharmacy. She crossed her legs and lazily watched the headbot, the largest one, answering questions from a policeman or maybe it was the chief. It didn't matter; it was fun just to watch the bot stoop to talk to a human.

A car pulled up and she started when she recognized a black and white Porsche pull up and transformed into a too familiar shape.

"Hey ya, Margie."

"Uhhhhh . . . " Margery could only respond one way. "Margery."

"Margery, right." Jazz glanced down the street at the disaster site and down at her. "You wasn't in all that, was ya?"

"No. I got off and went to get a bite to eat at McDonalds before all that mess started." Oooh, the lies could still roll off her tongue. The trick was to always plan ahead and don't stutter or hesitate. "How's Crash? Is he doin' better?"

"He's in good hands. Doc Ratchet is fixin' him up real good."

"Heard he caused some trouble with a scalpel."

A smirk flicked across his lips and he said, "Don't worry about that. He's gonna be the only bot to threaten the Doc with his own tools and live to tell the tale."

Margery uncrossed her legs and leaned forward. "How bad was he? Really."  
If Jazz was Margery's size, he would have sat beside her on the bench, but he wasn't. So he settled for kneeling beside the bench. "I ain't gonna lie. He was pretty bad off, real bad off. Ratchet took a look inside 'im and still can't figure out he was survin' like he was. Ya saved his life when ya told 'im to give up the scalpel."

Margery shook her head. "No, I didn't. He would have smarten up or passed out or something and then you woulda treated him."

"Don't cut yerself so short. Crash thinks a lot about you. He's really glad you came."

Margery thought about the kiss from Michaels, the long and boring bus ride, being smacked down on the bus, Ravage's attack and near kidnapping, and the bizarre images going through her brain. Then she remembered watching Little House on the Prairie with Crash.

_I don't know about you, Crash, but if I was Mr. Oleson, I'd slapped the shit out that bitch._

_You mean, Mrs. Oleson?_

_Yeah! If he would just practice a little bit of domestic violence than his household would be like Ingalls._

_No, it wouldn't._

_Yes, it would. Wife and kids do what he said._

_But it wouldn't have the respect, kindness, or love that Ingalls thrive on. It would be ruled with fear and resentment and tyranny. Caroline and the kids obey Charles because they love him and respect him and trust him, not out of fear or obligation. _

_Since when did you become Dr. Phil on me?  
I don't know. _

"I'm really glad I came too." And she meant it.

* * *

"This is it?"

Megatron stared at the blurry feedback on the monitor. On it was a pale round shape surrounded by a black nimbus and the sound was static, but high telling that the voice was feminine.

Soundwave disconnected from the monitor and transformed into robot mode. "Ravage was damaged retrieving the human. His visual feedback is not one hundred percent."

Starscream chortle and said, "Today is not your day, Soundwave."

"We don't know her name, we don't know where she lives, and the only description we have. . ." Megatron was getting heated up again. "is that she has black hair and blue optics! There are thousands of humans with that description in this country alone!"

"The human can be found." Soundwave assured him, but kept to himself that it won't be easy. He himself did not get a good look at the human's facial characteristics and Ravage was no better at recognizing humans than he was. "There was backlash when her ability met with mine. I received events from her body as she received events from my shell."

"Then find her." Megatron snarled.

A tool able to gain highly valued information from his enemies from a single touch made the energy in his fuel lines race. He could tap into all security nets and pass codes of any military base on this planet or any planet for that manner. Find where hidden storages of energy, attain any and all security passwords for Teletraan-1, and anything he would ever want to know. Forget interrogation, just get the human to touch the prisoner and all his secrets would be Megatron's.

He may have to hold off on his other plan for a few days though. The raid on the power plant was to secure enough energy for a new weapon the Construticons were to build in the southern part of this country. What was the name of the area of the location for his plans to be carried out?

Al . . Ala . . .it was very primitive sounded which matched the attitude the rest of this country held for this backwater little state.

Alabama. That's it, Alabama.

Roll tide.


	10. Reunion

Watch out, pretty emotional stuff in this chapter.

* * *

The rec room was unusually empty around noon. Most of the Autobots were out scouting due to the attack from Soundwave. Crash and Sideswipe along with Spike and Bumblebee sat around a table near the t.v. monitor. Spike had removed the bandage, but held a very ugly bruise on his neck and he often tenderly touched it and wince.

"Slag, Spike." Sideswipe stared at the bruise. "That looks painful even to me."

Spike shook his head and wince when pain laced up his jaw and down his shoulder. "I just got feeling back in my arm."

"I'm sorry about that." Crash said guiltily. "I didn't know the little glitches had something like that."

"They also had a switchblade, a box cutter, a cherry bomb, a stink bomb, little firecrackers, and a mini thing of mace." Spike lamented. "I think I got off lucky."

"Not like Sunstreaker." Sideswipe shook his head. "Those kids got him good with their 'Pit of Doom'."

"How is he anyhow?" Bumblebee asked.

"Mad." Sideswipe replied. "Wants nothing more than to throw those kids into his own Pit of Doom."

"I wish him luck." Crash said and when he saw the shocked looks on Bumblebee and Spikes face, he continued, "What? You think I _liked _those kids? No! I only brought 'em because they blackmailed me into it. The irony was that they wanted to come to hide from Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, they didn't know I was bringing them right where you guys lived."

Sideswipe clapped a hand on Crash's shoulder. "Know how ya can make it up to ole, Sunny?"

Crash had the feeling he already know.

"Seeing Brawn singing I'm a Barbie Girl." Sideswipe said with hope in his optics. Bumblebee and Spike burst into giggles. "During a me . . ."

"I don't know the song." Crash clipped.

"I got it right here." Sideswipe held up a data chip.

"No, I am not going to humiliate someone who has never done anything to me." Crash said shaking his head. "I just don't want to cause trouble."

Sideswipe grabbed Crash's hand and firmly placed it in his palm. "Just listen to it and imagine Brawn singing it and then tell me it don't bring a smile to your face."

Crash accepted the chip and placed it on a side panel. "I don't think so."

Sideswipe's grin turned into a snarl, "One way or another, you are going to help me with a prank."

Crash decided to turn the subject around and said, "I think that Margery once played a joke on me, but I don't understand it."

Sideswipe sat back in his seat and looked at him curiously. When they had first awaken, there had been some jokes he didn't understand either, but he was one of the few Autobots that adapted quickly to the new culture so he was able to keep up with Spike and Sparkplug in the humor department. "What did she do?"

"I was in car mode and giving her a ride for the first time. She got into my driver compartment and said, "I have just penetrated you."  
Bumblebee looked away and if he was human, he would have been pink in the face. Sideswip nearly fell out of his chair laughing and Spike howled, but yelped as it put too much strain on his bruise.

Crash stared confused and said, "Well, what does it meant?"

Sideswipe was guffawing on the table and Spike bit his lips together to stop giggling and said, "Have you seen much television?"

"Yeah, but we usually watch the old ones. Good Times, Little House on the Prairie, The Waltons, All in the Family, Bonanza."

"Margery's an oldies fan?" Spike said surprised. "How old is she?"

"I . . .don't know." Crash was still unable to decipher between age groups other than kids were little and adults were bigger. "But Margery hates Leave it to Beaver and the Brady Bunch, she says they're very unrealistic because they always have a solution to every problem and don't show the problems that most families would have, but I don't understand any of that either."

"You won't get what she meant from those shows. Watch the recent ones and you'll get it."

"May I . . ." Sideswipe choked from the table as he set up. "May I recommend . . . L.A Dolls?"

Sideswipe choked back into peals of laughter and Spike looked embarrassed. Bumblebee muttered something about being on duty and hastily left the table. Crash, innocently, looked bewildered,

* * *

Margery was very surprised at Jazz's friendly attitude toward her. She had expected the Autobot to hold some cold feelings or resentment toward her, but he acted as if they were old friends. If he was willing to forget the shit she gave him, then so was she.

She waited a couple of hours while Jazz surveyed the damage and help with cleanup. She now saw why the Autobots were so appreciated even though they did in a way bring their war to Earth. They were always willing to help cleanup any damages caused by their foes and provide protection after an attack.

When it would have taken days or perhaps weeks to cleanup the devastation caused by some 'Soundwave' and his 'cassettes', it was cleared away in hours. She also notice that tourists were taking pictures of the working robots.

She gave Rose a call when she spotted the tv crews. No doubt this was going to be on live television and she wanted to let Grandma Rose know she was alive and well, and had not been stepped on by a Decepticon before the old woman had a stroke.

Rose wanted Margery to come home on the next bus, but Margery assured her that she was fine and safe and the Autobots were less than twenty feet away, but it didn't assure the elderly woman one bit.

"I will not get one wink of sleep until you come home." Rose said over the phone.

"That's not going to be good for you." Margery commented. "Please, don't worry. I'm fine."

There was no way on Earth was Margery going to tell her grandmother about Ravage.

"I'm going to be praying for you to come home soon." Rose said blearily.

"It's okay. I'm not hurt." Except for the bruises, bite marks, and scrapes.

She finally got off the phone after assuring Rose that she would call her again once she got settled in wherever she was staying. She hung up and took a long sigh. To think that one week ago, she would be in the trailer watching television and robots were the things that hung around Oregon and would have nothing to do with her.

"You ready to roll." She turned to see Jazz in car mode parked on the curb behind her.

"What?"

His door popped open revealing the driver's seat. "Pile in. I'll take ya to see Crash."

In the passenger seat was the duffle bag she had thought was gone for good when she didn't take it off the doomed bus. "Where did you find that?"

"Found it."

"Thanks." She meant it. It contained her spare clothes, all black, and her tampons and toothpaste with toothbrush. She never kept her drugs in her luggage, too many damn drug dogs.

She climb in and from her experience with Crash, she knew to keep her left knee out of the way for Jazz to shut the door. It felt surprisingly cool inside and the radio blared to life as Jazz pulled away from the curb.

It was some sort of jazz with a rhythm and beat. The volume lowered and Jazz's voice came through. "Anythin' you want playin' while I'm rollin'?"

She thought for a second and said, "Got anything by Jewel?"

"A few." Jewel's Hands gently beat came on and her soft voice started singing. The volume didn't raised, but a gentle song like Hands wasn't meant to be played loud anyway. "How did you meet Crash?"

Her first instinct was to clam up about it, but then she figured, Crash properly told them the story anyway and they wanted her side of it. "He just showed up one night in my yard like some stray. A big stray."

Jazz laughed. "That's sorta how we all showed up on Earth to you humans. We just showed up one day like a bunch of strays."

"How did he get hurt so badly?" She asked crossing her legs, her knee lightly brushing the steering wheel turning with no help her from her. "Optimus Prime told me he was hurt very badly, but not how."

"He took a spill from a cliff and landed on a tree." Jazz pulled onto a highway and went a touch faster than the speed limit. "Had a huge stake skewered in his shoulder."

Margery sucked in air through her teeth. "That had to hurt him. But he's okay now. Stake's gone and everything?"  
"Well, Ratchet took care of the stake, but Crash . . .you humans would say he wasn't very healthy to begin with."

"What's wrong with him?"

"It's been a long time since he had a tune up is all I can say. Crash will give you the nitty gritty details when ya see 'im."

* * *

It was late afternoon when at long last. One long boring bus ride, being punched on the bus, attacked by Ravage, and a long car ride later, she saw the Ark through Jazz's windshield.

He pulled up close to the wide entrance and his door opened and she stepped onto hot dirt.

"Hey! It's Mar-germy!"

Her eyes widen. "What the fuck are you guys doing here?"

Jasina, Freda, and Charlie ran from the entrance of the Ark to surround her. A young blonde hair woman ran after them and Margery could tell that this woman had hung around the Trio of Terror. Her hand was disheveled, her eyes were red, and her mouth was set into a thin line of contempt for the three little darlings.

"You gonna take us home?" Charlie tugged on her sleeve. "That ugly yellow one we burned up tried to get us!"

"What?" Margery stared at the kid puzzled. "How did you get here?"

"Crashie brought us." Jasina whopped Margery's hip with her pony.

"Excuse me." The blonde woman approached looking very hopeful and Margery was ready to say hell no to her face. "Are they yours?"

"Hell, no." Margery said shaking her head. "If they were, I would not be here. Where's Crash?"

Jazz transformed behind them. "He's on his way."

Before the words left his vocaliser, a brown and green car rolled down the wide hall followed by a red Lamborghini. She smiled as she watched the familiar transformation and she noticed that he looked better. His gait was quicker and he seemed brighter, happier.

He picked her up. This she did not expect. He approached the small group of humans, leaned forward, and hands sifted through the kids and closed around her. And the vertigo feeling of being lifted off her feet, such as what one would feel in an elevator, but scarier, touched her head and chest. He held her at chest level and his aqua optics look bright and the smile was just for her.

"I missed you, Margery."

She hooked her arms over his fingers and smiled back. "Now I know how that blonde chick from King Kong feels."

He laughed and she felt warm. She missed him too.

"Hey, if you were wearing a skirt, we could see your panties!" Charlie called up running the mood.

Margery looked over the back of Crash's hand and said, "Yeah, and I can spit on you from here too."

This was answered with squeals of horror as the kids ran for cover. She turned her gaze back to Crash and said, "Why did you take them with you after you told me you couldn't take me?"  
The grin died from Crash's face. "Margery, listen, I didn't mean for you to find out . . ." He leaned to put her back on the ground.

"No, don't put me down. Lift me back up because I want you to tell me to my face why you lied to me in the face."

"Drop her and run, Crash!" The red Autobot said as if Crash was suddenly holding a snake instead of a human.

"Yeah! Drop 'er!" The kids yelled from their hiding spot behind Jazz's legs. "Drop 'er, drop 'er, drop 'er."

"Ya'll go to hell!" Margery yelled.

Then she was dropped. Holy shit! He actually did it! Motherfucker!  
She was caught by a hand and gently pushed into the passenger seat of Crash's car mode. The door slammed banging her right knee.

"Sorry, Margery." Crash said and to the others, "We'll be back before dark."

With that he sped off with Margery inside and leaving the others staring after them.

"He was very happy to see her." Carly commented. "And she came a long way to see him . . ."

"They're boyfriend and girlfriend." Freda said as if that was something everyone knew.

"No, they're not!" Charlie clipped. "They just get high together is all."

And that was exactly what they did.

* * *

Margery smoked a joint while Crash injected a Jolt into his optic. He had taken them into the distant forest, leaning against a tree, legs bent with Margery sitting on his right knee.

She faced him, with her legs dangling against his thigh. They gave each other loopy smiles and talked.

Margery already cussed him out for the lying, taking the kids along and getting hurt and being unhealthy when he should have gone to the Autobots to begin with. When she was through, she was happy to like him again.

"I thought for a while, after you left, you was never coming back." She took a long drag on the weed stick.

Crash's eyes flared blue and then retreated to aqua. "So did I."

"On the way of here, I didn't think I was gonna get up here." Margery giggled. "A damn robot bout drug me out of the bathroom."

"You're kidding." Crash laughed.

"No, no, no, it was a Decepticon at the bus transit . . ." She broke into a peal of laughter as she told the story of Ravage's attack in the bathroom.

The grin faded from Crash's face as his mouth dropped in horror. "Ravage? You mean Ravage as in a robotic cat?"

Margery scratched her nose and said, "Ya know him?"

"No, but I heard about him back on Cybertron." Crash shook his head. With the crowd he had been with, it was impossible not to hear about someone as influential in Decepticon military as Soundwave and his cassettes. "Margery, listen, stop laughing, this is serious . . ."

Margery shook her head and said, "I'm too high to take anything serious."

"Then stop smoking and listen." Crash actually reach out and took the joint from her hand with a thumb and finger.

She slapped his knee, making her palm sting and said, "Son, you better be glad you made of metal. I'd be tearing you a new one, righta bout now."

"Do you know why he was after you?" Crash said as he grinded the joint between thumb and finger as if he was killing a flea.

Margery glared at him and said, "No, I don't know. Lemme down, I need another . . ."

"It can wait." Crash caught her arm gently with his fingers and steadied her on his knee. "Do you know why Ravage was after you?"

"I already said I don't know." Margery kicked his leg with her heel. "It was just somethin' that happened for no reason at all and it ain't gonna happen again."  
"I hope not." Crash shook his head and said, "Margery, you don't understand what it means for the Decepticons to have an interest in someone. They won't leave you alone till they have what they want from you."

"How do you know? Were ya a Decepticon?"

"No, I wasn't."

_I was something worse._

Crash released her arm and said, "You're going to have to tell the Autobots."

"Hell, no."

"Margery . . ."

"NO!" She rolled around on her butt and slide down his leg as if it was a slide. The bottom of her shoes hit his toe and she scooted down to stand on the grass. "Crash, why are you making a big deal out of nothing?"

"Why are you trying to make it into nothing?" Crash covered his optics with his hand. "The Autobots might be the only ones who can help you."

"Don't you dare talk to me about who can help me." Margery said through her teeth venomously. Her high mood was gone and she was angry.

"Margery . . ."

"No, Crash, no! Ever since I was little kid, everyone knew I needed. Everyone knew what to do to help." Margery seethe kicking at the grass. "My school counselors thought I had low self-esteem so they talked my grandma into enrolling me for the high school band where I was not only laughed at by cheerleaders and football players, but the other band members also. The band director kept throwing shit at me about how I refuse to take off my gloves during practice. My grandma shipped me off to the institution to help me and the doctors claimed that could help me, but they couldn't do shit!"

She kicked a rock and it bounded across the grass. She wished it was the head of Dr. Clarence, the fucking bitch who told her to meditate, to let her 'power' channel through shit, fuck her. Fuck that bitch for making her touch things, trying to limit the pills that gave her

* * *

relief from hell, and did it all with such a sad face full of fake concern that it made her want to vomit. Margery hoped she was somewhere being raped.

"I was in that pisshole until Grandma wised up and took me out. That slut Clarence even tried to talk her out of it. God, I hate that BITCH!" Margery felt as a hot coal was going to burst through her abdomen. "I was sent to juvenile after they found weed in my locker and I never went back to school after that shit. The therapists, the counselors couldn't do shit. All because of THIS!" She ripped her glove off showing a pale hand to Crash.

"I can't touch shit without getting a goddamn vision!" She yelled. "Do you realize what I've been deprived off because of this fucking disease?" I couldn't go to any school dances or events because what if I bump into someone and see all their dark and dirty secrets? My classmates were 'look at the freak, she's so afraid of germs she wear's gloves and long sleeves in hot weather'. I've been spit on, ya know? Someone would, look out for the germs Mar-germy, and spit would hit me. Do you know how many times I cried in the fucking bathroom, begging God to take it away, to make it go away?"

She choked on a sob as she remembered the pain, the hurt feelings, and hate for everything . . .the hate never gone away, but was covered up with time to resurface when she was like this.

"God didn't help, He didn't even answer my prayers. Nobody can help me, NOBODY! So I tried to help myself." Her flexed her hand back showing off the scar. "Too bad I didn't know that it was better to cut down the wrist than across."

Crash didn't understand the meaning, but he knew it was something self mutilating. He held out a hand toward her and stopped it when his fingers tips were a foot away from her outstretched bare hand. He waited for permission.

Margery gave it with a rough sniff and stepped forward. His first two fingers slid across the back of her hand and his thumb stroked the upturn scar. She didn't get any visions because the drug was still running through her system, blocking it. His thumb was hard, smooth, but it wasn't exactly made of steel. She couldn't describe it, but it seemed softer than the rest of his body, but flexible like his face.

She leaned forward and kissed the knuckle of his thumb. "Crash, you're the best thing to ever happen to me, okay? Don't do anything stupid and get yourself killed, okay? I can't take it, ya know, if something happens to you and you get taken away from me, okay?"

"Margery, I'm sorry I did what I did."

"God, I wish I didn't like you as much as I do. Being a transformer is dangerous, isn't?"

"Depends." Crash shrugged. "I'm more worried about you. You're a fleshie, pardon the term, but you guys die easy."

"I'd say I can take care of myself, but I know better." Margery shook her head and said, "Don't tell anyone, okay? I can't . . .I can't stand anyone's help anymore. I'm only accepting my own help and . . .and. . .yours."  
Crash's bottom jaw quavered. This small little being of weak flesh needed him, wanted him. How long has it been since someone had needed him? A very long time. It shocked him to realize that he needed her too. He hadn't felt this connection for so long, not since Stormsaint, Triggerflex, Juggernaut, Dodge, and even . . .Duskdawn.

"Crash, am I being too clingy? I don't want to be like that." Margery swallow a lump in her throat.

"No, no." He shook his head.

"I get all talkative when I get high." Margery rubbed her face with her free hand.

"And emotional. I noticed." Crash commented. He released her hand and ever go gently chucked her under her chin with a fingertip. "Let's go back. Ratchet's gonna think I'm out here trying to leap cliffs in a single bound again and get myself into another fix."

"You're not going to tell?"

"I won't."

"Okay, then." She picked up her glove and slipped it back onto her hand.

Crash transformed and opened the driver's side. She got in and said, "Ya know, they're going to want me to take care of the kids."

"Are ya?" Crash shut the door when he was sure Margery's knee was out of the way.

"No way. And I'll tell 'em to their faces that I came here for you and not for them. I ain't their momma."

"What if they want us to take them home?" Crash rolled through the forest and into the direction of the Ark.

"They can take and shove it. No way in fucking hell am I gonna ride up here with those little abortions back there fightin' and cussin' and carryin' on in the back like a bunch of wild animals. Only way that gonna happen is if I got a cattle prod to shock their little asses." Margery said angrily, but the smile was evident in her eyes. "Or maybe a belt? Hear the gator bite! I mean it, they get in the back I'm gonna say, "Getonouttadere!"

Crash laughed so hard he swerved on the dirt. "What did you just say?"

"Southern for 'get out of there'." Margery laughed. "Don't crash, Crash."

"Don't worry, I'll lock my doors when we leave. Only you can get in."

"And what if they won't let us leave without the kids?"

"I'll just tell them to ship the kids to the Decepticons and win the war!" Crash's tires spun in the dirt. He howled with laughter with Margery.

_They were laughing to keep from crying._

"I love ya, Crash."

"I love you too, Margie."  
"MARGERY!"

* * *

Okay, just want to make a note real quick. Just because you say I love you to somebody doesn't mean it's romantic love. There is different kinds of love. When I was living with three roommates, who were great friends, I loved them, but I wouldn't want to go out with them.

This is more likely a note for all you romantics out there.


	11. Secret

SuperSkye: How can taking care of a puppy be annoying? Awwww. . .I love puppies.

Not much action in this chapter. Hope ya don't get bored.

* * *

"Prime, I don't know where to start about this punk. His chronometer stopped working, his gears are notched up, there was actually mud in his repair functions, and Jolts is gummed up in his system. Now I have put together Autobots after a battle, but I have never, NEVER, seen anybody with . . .such slaggin' neglect. Three days, three days of cleaning him out and fixing all the things wrong with him. Slag, I don't know how in Primus's name that kid was able to function for so long."

Prime listened to Ratchet's report over the radio in his office while Prowl was attaining the evidence from the bus transit attack. "But he will make a full recovery?"

"If he keeps Jolting he won't." Ratchet bemoaned.

"That's something I'll speak with him later, where is he now?"

"Where else? With his human friend. They haven't left each other's side since she got here."

"From what I heard from Jazz, she's quite a character."

Ratchet grunted something that Prime couldn't hear and then Ratchet said, "I'm going to finish up the repairs on him tonight and maybe give him a new paint job or at least freshen his up. He makes Tracks and Sunstreaker wince when he walks into the room."

"How did Sideswipe describe his paintjob?"

"Donkey piss green and dog shit brown."

"Optimus Prime, sir." Prowl entered the office with a data chip and datapad in hand. "I believe you might find this interesting."

Prime nodded at Prowl and said into the radio, "Sorry, Ratchet, but Prowl just came in with information. We'll talk later."

"No problem, just got to go collect the little punk before he slaggin' undo everything I've done for him . . ." and Ratchet dropped off into a small tirade of violent promises toward a certain Crash if he got himself damaged.

Prime turned off the radio and turned his attention to Prowl. "What do you have for me?"

"Surveillance footage of what could be Ravage's target." Prowl set the datapad on the desk and slid the data chip into a receptor on the corner of Prime's desk. A monitor flipped up from the front of Prime's desk and came to life.

The footage was black and white and soundless. Cam A was in white letters in the top right hand corner of the screen. It showed the inside of the bus transit with humans running inside, obviously away from a newly transformed Soundwave. An Asian woman wearing a black dress ran inside, but was quickly tackled from behind by Ravage who burst through the glass doors. Prime watched with concerned optics as Ravage pinned the woman to the floor, maw open in apparent snarls. Then Ravage lifted his head, spotted something that couldn't be seen onscreen, and trotted off the woman and loped offscreen.

Then the monitor switched to a different camera, Cam B. It gave a view of the back of the building and the men and women bathrooms. A dark figure stumbled against the wall and slipped into the women's. Prime patiently waited for what would happen next. He knew Prowl wouldn't bring him anything that wasn't worth seeing.

He perked up when Ravage moved like obsidian liquid and pushed up the women's restroom door with his muzzle and slip inside. Prowl pressed a button on the desk and the footage fast forward. Prime waited (with bated breath if he was human), and ten minutes after Ravage went inside (according to the timer in the bottom right hand corner of the screen) he came out, loped off the screen. Prime noticed with interest that Ravage had a busted optic with energon trailing down his muzzle. Four more minutes, a dark haired human wearing black came out looking ruffled.

Prowl paused the video to where the woman was looking around, eyes wide and hair tangled. "No one else came out of the restroom, but her. The police found two bullets. One in the ceiling and another in the sink. Here, look at this."

The image of the woman flicked over to photos lined four by four of the interior of the ladies room. The stall walls were smashed as if a mini bulldozer plowed through.

"What is your take on this?" Prime asked wanting Prowl's full view.

"The human is obviously Ravage's target. But more likely he wasn't sure which human was the target. He needlessly assaulted the first woman and then released her to follow after the second one. The only similarities between the humans are dark hair and black clothing so Ravage was definitely after a female with this description."

"The question is if human number 2 is the human Ravage was after to begin with."

"Probable." Prowl said thoughtfully. "He spent les than three seconds with the first one, but he used ten minutes with the other one, however, he did let her go."

"Or perhaps he couldn't take her with him. Superion was making short work of Soundwave, and perhaps he was called away to retreat."

"It's very unlikely that the human managed to drive him away, even with a projectile weapon. He was injured, but his injury wouldn't keep him from carrying out his mission."

Prime took a moment to think and said, "Okay, let's try this scenario. Soundwave is in his alt-mode, up to his old 'tricking a human into carrying him into a power plant' trick. A human carries him onto the bus, no doubt on the way to the power plant, but something happens. Soundwave panics enough to forget about the energy raid plan and transforms."

Prowl nods in agreement. "The Seekers were waiting nearby when Soundwave completed his part."

"It would have to be something very serious for Soundwave to go into a panic like that." Optimus said lacing his fingers, elbows on his desk in deep thought. "But what could have happen on that bus full of humans that would make someone like Soundwave loose it?"

"It would be very probable that the answer lies with the human in black."

"But what?" Prime felt a tremor of frustration as the mystery deepened. "So something happened and it would seem that this human is the cause of it. However, the human isn't running away, at least not at first."

"She does what a lot of human females do." Prowl had his head tilted downward in deep thought. Prime could swear he almost could hear his cranial circuits sparking and processor humming. She goes to the bathroom, so apparently, she doesn't think she's in danger."

"Soundwave sends Ravage out to retrieve the human, because if it was to kill the human would surely be dead. Whether Soundwave isn't sure of the human's description or it was a mistake on Ravage's part, he leaps on the first woman, but sees the second woman going to the bathroom and follows her."

"It might be the human Soundwave wanted." Prowl mused. "Because if it wasn't, Ravage would have left the restroom a moment later to move on to the next possible candidate, instead he stayed there for almost ten minutes and made severe damages in the process."

"Meanwhile, Superion is driving Soundwave away. For all his faults, Soundwave does care for his cassettes so likely for Ravage's benefit, orders him abandon the kidnap attempt to rejoin him. Ravage leaves and then the human recovers herself from the assault and leaves."

Prowl flick the image back to the paused viewing of the human looking around with wide frightened eyes. "We have no reports of a witness coming forward with a story of Ravage attacking other than the first woman who fortunately came away with bruises and scratches."

"So this human didn't come forward. Why?"

"Perhaps she was too frightened." Prowl said shaking his head. "Humans can act irrationally under fear or stress. She may have gone to her home to recover, or was in shock, or wanted to forget the attack happen like some human females are accustomed to doing."

"Then she needs to come forward because chances are that Soundwave is going to attempt another abduction and that will put others at risk."

"Shall I have the police attempt to identify her?"

"Yes. I want to know who she is and what happened on that bus."

Prowl was silent for a moment and then he said, "It may be possible we already know her."

"Oh?" Prime said intrigued.

"Jazz's description of Margery Kayla was dark hair and she wore black clothes each time he saw her. Also, was she not taking the same bus transportation to come to Portland and Jazz saw her right outside the perimeter of the attack."

Prime glanced at the image and said, "I have as of yet to get a look at Miss Kayla."

"Shall I call Jazz in to identify her?"

"Yes, do that. I want to be sure it's her before bringing this to her attention."

* * *

"Barbie Girl? He wants you to look like someone and sing I'm a Barbie Girl?" Margery grinned.

"Yeah, and he's persistent." Crash shook his head.

"You got more slaggin' sense than he does." Ratchet muttered from the far side of medical bay prepping his tools (which Crash was still banned from going near unless he was in stasis). "But be warned, he might end up pranking you for not playing along."

"Then we'll sic the kids on him." Margery said from her spot on the floor.

Crash was sitting on the exam table, his feet on the floor near Margery. He was hoping that this would be the last time he would go into stasis for a long while. It was amazing at how much better he felt compared to four days ago when transforming too much put a strain on him.

However, what bothered him was that Ratchet was using replacing parts in him, parts that should be used for injured Autobots. And that's not mention the energon he consumed since he got here. These transformers were fighting a war and every resource was needed and they were using them on him.

"I'm ready. Step out, Marge, this ain't for the optics of a delicate steel magnolia like you." Ratchet sneered at Margery as he pushed the tray cart over.

"Kiss my ass, Doc." Margery retorted.

"Maybe later, hussy." Ratchet clipped. It didn't take long for Ratchet to discover that Margery will take it and dish it out as well as he could. "Get outta here before I toss your ass out."

Margery gave Crash's knee a pat and said, "You let me know when this quack lets you go, okay?"

"I will." Crash promised. "Just try not to have half the Autobots mad at you by the time I come online."

"I make no promises."

"Scat." Ratchet flinging a hand at her as if he was shooing an annoying cat.

Margery mockingly hissed at him with her right hand up, fingers hooked into claws as if trying to scratch him. Then with a venomous meow, she turned and stalked out of the medical bay. Ratchet shut the door behind her cursing about how human females might as well be cats for all the evil they bring into the world.

Crash noticed that Margery seemed more alert, even playful just now with Ratchet. Usually she was tight lip and hostile toward strangers . . .if she call trading insults with Ratchet not hostile.

"Okay, boy, let's open you up."

* * *

"Is that her, Jazz?"

"Oh, yes, that's her alright." Jazz said shaking his head. "Optimus, I asked her if she was in that mess Soundwave caused, but she said was cleared out of it."

Prime turned off the monitor and leaned backwards in his seat. "Did she seem frightened?"

"Naw, but she didn't seem . . .out of whack, but I figger it was becuz of the trip and seein' the mess old Waves made."

"I see." Optimus said standing. "I want to talk with her."

Jazz made a face and said, "Hold, Optimus, ya might wanna lemme give ya some warnin' about this little girl before you jump into a nest full of nasty Decepticreeps."

Prime looked a Jazz perplexed. "What do you mean?"

Jazz rubbed the back of his head and he said, "Hound and I didn't exactly give ya the low down on what happened in Alabama."

Prime crossed his arms. "What happened in Alabama?"

"Well, Optimus, I don't like sayin' bad things about people, other than the Decepticons, but the best way for me to tell ya how it was with Margery Kayla is like this: She was a total bitch toward us."

Optimus dropped his arms and cocked his head. "That's a very strong term, Jazz."

Jazz shrugged with his hands up. "Margery acted like we pulled up ready to take over her home. She almost got Sheriff Gregs into shootin' her, Primus, he pulled his gun on 'er."

Optimus Prime stared at Jazz. "Jazz, why did you tell me this? This is a far different story than the one you gave me over the radio." Jazz had reported that the questioning went smoothly, but Margery Kayla knew nothing about Crash. Prime dropped back into his chair and said, "Jazz, you better give me that report again, but don't leave anything out."

* * *

There, it was finished. He was all fixed up as if he had just been created. Ratchet leaned up away from his work and set aside his smoking tool.

"This better be the last time I have you on my table for a long time, boy." Ratchet said to the stasis locked Crash. "Now let's take a one last look at your generator."

Ratchet had found Crash's special masquerade device tucked away near inside his chest cavity, much like Mirage's, but something was different about it. Sure, it was more advanced than the Spy's being that it held a more intricate function than turning someone invisible. It manipulated light around the user and gave off its own halo of lights in order to disguise Crash. No wonder it was sensitive to physical contact or any kind of interference.

Crash's vocaliser was built differently also. It had a line connected to his audios and constantly recording sounds like an audile, however it held a specific function to record voices. Ratchet tested this by turning it on and saying an insult into Crash's audio receptor, it lit up to life from his voice.

Ratchet studied the disguising device. Something was bothering him about this surprisingly small device. It was nearly identical to Mirage's so could Crash have purchased this part from the same engineer that Mirage's got his. Which did not seem likely. Crash didn't seem to be the type to come from money like Mirage. So how did Crash manage to be installed with a high advance technological device such as this?

He scanned it with a small hand held scanner. Nothing. Ratchet lowered the scanner and stared at the device as an archeologist would stare at hieroglyphics. It looked fine, after he cleaned it and all, but something was nagging at him.

He didn't become Chief Medical Officer of the Autobots for nothing.

He set aside the scanner and leaned forward to look for himself with his own optics. Yeah, there it was . . .there was a wire right underneath it going into back into his spinal lines. What was this for? With one hand, Ratchet picked up a tool and leaned it for a very good look.

What he found made him stand straight in shock. "What the slaggin' Inferno? Primus!" He looked down at Crash and said, "I'm gonna hafta change my opinion of you kid if this thing is what I think it is."

He switched on his radio. "Wheeljack, have ya blown yourself up with your latest creation yet?"

"No." Came an irritated reply.

"Good, then get yerself down to med bay now. Something here I want ya to see."

"Let me guess who it is. Crash? What else does that kid got in him this time? A nest of snakes?"

Ratchet told him.

"Holy Primus! I'm on my way and I hope you're wrong."

Ratchet switched off his radio and muttered, "I hope I'm wrong too."

* * *

Optimus shook his head when Jazz finished with the details of his two visits with Margery. "Do you believe she's going to lock up like with me?"

"Maybe, maybe not. She's not coverin' for Crash like she was in Alabama, but she did lie to me back at the bus transit."

"And you think she . . .may be a drug addict?"

"I don't think. I know she is." Jazz sighed. "I think she was high when I met up with her outside the bus transit or gettin' offa it. She was showin' withdrawal signs when we first saw 'er."

Prime studied Jazz and said, "Do you think she went into the bathroom to . . .administer a drug into her body?"

"I wouldn't be surprised."

Prime sat silent in his chair and said, "It never seizes to amaze me at how far humans will go to hurt themselves just for a few moments of joy."

* * *

"Yep, that is what we think it is." Wheeljack stood straight from looking down inside Crash's body at his generator. "What amazes me is that I never figured this kid to have something like this inside him."

"Me neither." Ratchet said shaking his head. "But it makes me wonder what exactly this kid was involved with before he came here."

"These things were outlawed millions of years ago." Wheeljack said still amazed. "I didn't think the schematics still existed. Whoever built this was a genius. Slag, this is hidden so well you wouldn't know it for what it was until you . . ." he let the rest of the sentence trail off into the gloomy air.

"Why on Cybertron would this kid allow something to put something like this inside him?" Ratchet flung his tools onto the tray which reverberated with loud clangs.

"Put him online and ask him." Wheeljack said giving Crash a pat on the head.

"I think I'll do that."

* * *

Margery sucked in air through her mouth when she got her first look at Optimus Prime standing in front of his desk to greet her. Jazz had come to collect her, telling her that Optimus Prime would like to see her.

She noticed that he said see her, not greet her. She was skeptical, as always, when it came to meeting someone new. But nothing prepared her for the sight of the Commander of the Autobots. She saw him on the news, newspapers, documentaries, and even heard him speak on the radio, but it didn't compare to being in the room with the same thing.

Her skin prickled from the . . .aura? Nearness? No, power. It was power she was feeling tingling her skin as she enter the room. Was this her clairvoyance picking him up WITHOUT physical contact? She didn't know and was afraid to know. The only thing keeping her from refusing to get any closer to him was that power was harsh, it held a sense of gentleness.

Wasn't that fucked up?

They went through the hellos, hope you enjoy your accommodations, and I hope you are comfortable, and so on and so on with the necessities, before he finally told her why he wanted to see her in his office.

There was another Autobot other than Jazz and Optimus Prime. He was introduced a Prowl and to Margery's grief, his alt mode was apparently a police car of some sort. And he looked like had a metal pipe up his aft too.

"Miss Kayla, do you know what happened at the bus transit?" Optimus asked her very gently.

He had knelt; she was use to this from Crash, out of politeness, to be closer to her level, and not to intimidate her. It gave her a sense of security not to have him towering over her and she appreciated the act. In case he got pissed, she would have a head start as he got to his feet to run after her.

"I heard that a Decepticon attacked it." Margery replied a lie always loaded to be fired. "I wasn't there . . ."

"I'm afraid that you were." Prowl said and turned on a monitor behind Prime's desk. There was an image of her coming out of the bathroom right after Ravage attacked her.

She felt her blood turn to ice in her veins. She stood straight and crossed her arms and set her jaw. Jazz inwardly winced. He recognized that stance and he silently named it, 'Margery Going to Battle'.

* * *

"Ratchet, what's wrong?" Crash said as he sat up on the exam table. He noticed that Ratchet had a hard look on his face while Wheeljack, whom he was surprised to see standing in the Medical Bay, was looking at him funny.

"Son, do you have something you might want to tell us?" Ratchet said with his arms crossed and his feet apart as if he was going to attack Crash.

"Huh?" Crash shifted his weight uncomfortably, very unsure of what was happening with this new attitude.

"Don't 'huh' me, you little punk." Ratchet snapped. "I saw your generator."

Crash looked from Wheeljack to Ratchet and back again. "How is it?"

"Working as it should or better yet, how it might." Ratchet said steadily, his blue optics on Crash's face.

"What? Ratchet, I . . .why are you mad?"

"How can I not be mad?" Ratchet snapped. "I've been poking around inside of you," he poked Crash roughly in the chest making the younger bot lean away from the assaulting finger, "for the last three days. It would have been nice to know that other than parts, gears, servos, and your grease that your generator also doubles as a self-destruct device!"

Crash stared, his aqua optics dimming for a second and the brightened. His coolants thickened in his pipes and his bottom lip quivered. "Wha . . .what?"

"Don't you slaggin' act like you don't know what the slag that is!" Ratchet yelled. "Your device is a generator and bomb in one! Anyone tries to remove it without the disarming code, and then you explode! The energon in your body ignites and you and everything close to you goes to the Pit!"

Crash looked down at the hands hanging loose over his knees. Ratchet stared at him, expecting profuse apologies, and indignation, but not Crash hanging his head guiltily . . .no, with fear.

Then it dawned on him and he was horrified. "Sweet Primus of the Matrix . . .You didn't know this . . .did you?"

Crash lifted his head as if it was the hardest thing he had ever done. Terror shone from his optics and lower lip component shook. "I . . .have a . . .bomb inside me . . .?"

* * *

"That looks like me." Margery said in a clipped tone.

"That is you." Prowl responded in his clipped tone.

She shrugged. "Maybe."

Prime looked up to see Jazz give him an 'I told you so' look. Prime turned his gaze back to Margery who hadn't changed her position since he asked the first question. He recognized it as defensive, and he withdrew slightly from her.

"Margery, we are not interrogating you, however, if you have been attacked by a Decepticon then it's something you'll need to talk about with us."

"There's nothing to talk about." Margery replied. She couldn't deny that the picture was of her so she didn't try to. "He came in, tore shit up, literally scared the piss outta me, and left."

"And you fired possibly three bullets, knocking out one of Ravage's optic." Prowl stated, not asked, stated.

Margery shrugged. "I got scared and shot at him. I got a gun for self-defense. Can you blame me? I'm a woman, there's monsters made of flesh just as there monsters made of metal."

"True." Prime said hoping they were getting somewhere. "Margery, were you on the bus before Soundwave destroyed it?"

Margery cocked her head and said, "I don't know. Which bus was it?"

"Bus 56."

"Maybe."

"Did something happen on that bus?" Prime ventured. "Anything that happened that made you get off it?"

Visions, gold characters flashing through her mind's eye, a punch to the mouth, nausea.

"I just had to use to the bathroom."  
"You went to the restroom for no other reason?" Prime asked.

Margery shifted her feet and said, "If you really need to know, I was changing out a tampon."

That was followed by an uncomfortable silence and a snort from Jazz.

* * *

"I got a bomb inside me?" Crash whispered for the twentieth time.

"Not exactly." Wheeljack stepped forward to explain. "It's a self-destruct device which is trigger is someone tries to remove without disarming it first."

"Son, how the slaggin' hell, can you frickin' not know that you got somethin' like that inside you?" Ratchet was still shocked.

"I . . .I . . .didn't . . ." Crash looked away unable to speak. "Can you get it out?"

"Primus, kid, did not just hear what Wheeljack told ya?" Ratchet yelled. "I so much as touch that thing wrong; the last thing I'll hear is boom!"

"I . . .I want it out."

Ratchet shook his head and said, "Do you know the disarming code?"

Crash choked on something between a laugh and sob. "I didn't the scrapin' thing was there to begin with."

"Do you know who might know the disarming code?"

"He's dead." Crash said quickly, too quickly.

Ratchet aimed a hard look at Crash for a long time before saying, "You care to explain how you got something so complicated and advance as this generator?"

Crash said nothing, just hung his head, refusing to look at either Ratchet or Wheeljack.

"Did you pay to have it installed by an engineer?"

Nothing.

"Did someone else pay to have it installed in you?"  
Crash shifted his legs on the table.

That was Ratchet's answer right there. "You're not going to tell me who, are ya?"

Nothing.

"So they had it installed and didn't bother tellin' ya that it doubled as a self-destruct function?"

Crash gave a shuddering sigh.

Ratchet whistled. "Primus, kid, what crowd were you hangin' out with?"

Finally, Crash spoke, but in a choke whisper, "The wrong kind."


	12. Bond

SuperSkye: Dang, you must really love Crash. Anyway, you'll like this chapt because you get another peek at his past.

Thanks for all the reviews giving your sympathies to Crash. He loves them.

I've watched anime and in them I noticed that when the characters are talking bad or having something bad planned for that character that said character sneezes somewhere else. I went to wikipedia and it says that

According to anold Japanesebelief, sneezing twice in a row is a sign that someone is talking about you.

Also, in Chinese they believe a sneeze is a sign that someone is thinking about you .

Just a note for the end of this chapter. Enjoy.

* * *

"That could have gone better." Prime said after Margery left the office.

"At least she admitted it was her on the video."

"And after that she clamed up." Jazz finished.

"She's hiding something." Prowl stated. "She needs to come forward with the truth if we are going to prevent a possible attack. She's putting others in danger just by . . ."

"Prowl, you are starting to sound like Red Alert." Prime chided. "For all we know, Ravage might have had a glitch in his circuits and just attacked a random human which just happened to be Margery Kayla in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"And if she isn't, then no doubt Soundwave will attempt another retrieval of her."

"Then she is in the right place to prevent that." Prime replied. "We just wait and see and be patient with both her and Crash. They're both troubled and we need to gain their trust, not frighten them with interrogations."

"So our next course of action will be . . ." Prowl inquired.

"To wait. Keep monitoring any Decepticon activity, keep watch over Crash and Margery and be there when they're ready to talk. Crash included, I don't know his background, but I believe it wasn't a very good."

* * *

Crash was curled onto his side in a fetal position on the exam table. It was such a human position it would have shocked Spike or Sparkplug to see a Cybertronian like that. His arms was crossed over his chest as if holding back the flood of fear, grief, and betrayal from spilling onto the floor.

Wheeljack was standing at his back, hand on his shoulder. "Kid, it'll be okay. The only thing that's gonna make it blow is if someone tries to remove it. You lived for millions of years with it and nothing happened. It'll be fine."

It wasn't fine. Duskdawn . . .why would he do this? Do this to him? He trusted him.

_This isn't something that's going to hurt me, is it, Duskdawn?_

_Of course not, I would _never _do anything to harm you._

Look him straight in the faceplate and lied. And like a fool he had gotten onto the table and . . .Primus!

He wished he never met the son of a scrapping junk heap.

He had to owe that to Dodge.

However, he couldn't bring himself to be angry with the rough kicking slagging fool. He couldn't have known, there was no way. Dodge knew nothing about engineering except it was something he knew nothing about. Primus, that Dodge was quite a character

He knew there was never going to be someone like Dodge since he and Stormsaint first met him.

* * *

"_Turn that slagging scrap down!" _

_Stormsaint seethe as he looked outside the doorway of the small apartment he and Crash shared. Crash was trying to watch a report on the heated political activities between Decepticons and Autobots when a blaring racket spewed into the home. Five times Stormsaint stormed to the doorway to scream at the generator of the music to turn it down or turn it off._

_Each time, Stormsaint's pink optics would almost glare red. For a Decepticon, he was patient and wasn't in a hurry to jump into a physical conflict, but that didn't mean he wouldn't go out there and make this loud mouth turn it off._

"_Shut up, fool! I can do what I want out here. I ain't in your place!"_

_To Crash's horror, Stormsaint went out the door. "Storm, wait, no!"_

_Obscenities rained outside and he could hear metal against metal as there was a scuffle. At least the music was off. He waited for Stormsaint to return inside, however . . ._

_A red transformer flew into the room. He smashed into the recliner Crash had been sharing with Stormsaint, causing Crash to yelp and jump from the furniture. _

"_Slaggin, oil drink, no good, scrappin' junk heap." The red transformer muttered as he untangled himself from the recliner._

_Stormsaint appeared at the doorway, his pink optics glowing. "Now you're in my place, scrap."_

"_Stupid slagger!" The red transformer launched him at Stormsaint._

_Both gray and red robots rolled on the floor fist flying and feet kicking. Crash danced away from the rolling mass of furious metal till he backed into a far corner. He watched the fight and had to admire the red transformer for giving as well as he got. Stormsaint was a pretty good fighter and brawler, in fact, Crash couldn't remember when someone was able to almost match up to the Decepticon._

_And all the while the fists flew, the red fighter kept insulting and talking._

"_You ain't got any scrappin' preciation for music. What the slag is wrong with yer audios, fool, take that!" His fist smashed into Stormsaint's jaw rocking his head back. "Yeah, that hurt didn't it, scrapheap, take some more . . ..ow! Slag! So help me you break my speaker I'll . . .you like rollin' on the floor, huh empty?"  
"SHUT UP!" Stormsaint stood up on his knees and smashed the dolt's head against the edge of the vid._

"_Storm! No, you'll break . . ."_

_The vid smashed just as the reporter was saying something about a Megatron._

"_Awww . . ." Crash imagine the cost it would be to repair it or worse, have to get a new one._

"_Ha ha, broke your vid, scrapper." Red sparked as Stormsaint released him to star in horror at the vid set. He collapsed on the floor as Stormsaint crawled over him to inspect the vid._

"_No, no, no . . ." Stormsaint muttered running fingers over the cracks in the screen. "A whole month's pay, throw into disposal."_

"_What about mine?" Crash yelled. "I help pay for that thing too! You just had to throw him in here too brawl, huh? Break everything in here, huh? I thought living with you was to make it easier on me financially!"_

"_I'm sorry, Crash, okay." Stormsaint muttered fumbling with the vid as if he could somehow get it to work again._

"_Ya'll need hard cash?" Red spoke up from the floor._

"_Shut up!" Stormsaint snarl._

_Red sat up and twitched as something dented inside his head reacted from the movement. "Got some guys lookin' for strength like yours. They pay good credits if you do good."_

"_Shut up!" Crash repeated the order._

_But this time, Stormsaint held up a hand to stop Crash and said, "What kind of job and how much are they paying?"  
"You're just there in case things get rough. They're accepting a shipment for this rich putz from this other rich putz. You'll be there in case somebody shows up that ain't supposed to show up."_

_Crash shook his head. "No way. I don't like it."_

"_Tell me about the pay." Stormsaint looked interested and Crash silently groaned. This was the kind of job that Stormsaint had done many times before, before moving to Iacon and got a job being a bouncer for an inner city bar. _

"_Enough to get you a new vid and get you a new apartment." Red looked around the small cramped space and winced as if he was use to better things._

"_Storm, don't." Crash pleaded._

"_What time and where?"_

"_I said don't!" _

"_I'll meet you here in five mega-cycles and take you to 'em."_

"_Storm!"_

"_I'm Stormsaint." The pink opticed gray mech held out a hand._

"_I'm Dodge." The red transformer accepted his hand._

_They shook hands as if less than five minutes ago they were brawling across the floor. Stormsaint hiked a thumb at his roommate behind him. "This is Crash."_

"_Smashing." Dodge threw Crash a cheery smile from energon leaking lips. _

* * *

Since then, a day didn't go by when Crash didn't hear Dodge's name or see the wacky transformer around. Stormsaint went on jobs with Dodge and Crash stayed home to perform the safe job of a dock worker. Unloading cargo and loading it back on to freighters.

He stayed out of the darker side of the slums until he met Duskdawn . . . Frustrated with pain and dread, Crash roughly rolled onto his back, his feet hitting the table with force that it echoed.

"Hey, you break my table, I'll break you." Ratchet warned from the far side of the room.

"Why in Primus's name does someone wanna booby trap their own creation?" Crash wailed toward the ceiling, not to Ratchet or Wheeljack, but to the universe in general.

"To keep it from being stolen or copied." Wheeljack gently offered as a explanation. "These things were banned a millennia before the war started because medics kept getting blown up along with their patients when they removed a certain part or device in order to better treat their injuries."

"Since then . . ." Ratchet finished up the explanation. "medics were trained to recognize a trapped device during inspections and report any that they find to the Protectorate. I haven't seen one since before the war began."

Crash sat up and buried his face into his hands. He covered his face for a moment and then lowered them. "What are you going to do?"  
"Do? There's nothing to do." Ratchet snorted. "I already told ya, that thing is staying until someone inputs the disarming code to keep it from blowing when it is removed."

"So I walk around with it inside me like this?" Crash bordered on a dull scream.

"You walked around okay with it inside you before you found out." Wheeljack pointed out.

"Slag." Crash muttered. He scooted off the table and stood straight. "Are you done with me?"

"Yeah, you can go."

Before Crash got close to the door Wheeljack spoke up. "Crash, it's going to be okay."

Crash halted and looked over his shoulder at the inventor. "I hope so."

* * *

When he got to his temporary quarters loaned out to him by the Autobots, he was very surprised to see Margery already inside. She was sitting on the floor against the far wall with a joint hanging from her lips.

"How did you get in here?"

"I threw my shoe at the button." Margery replied. "Now shut that door before someone sees me smoking this."

He shut the door and went to the recharge cot and tossed himself face down on it. Margery wince at seeing the large robot throw himself bodily through the hair and the floor shook as he landed.

"What's wrong, babe." She called to him from the floor.

"Everything." He muttered.

"Everything ain't so good from here." Margery had wanted to talk to him about what happened with Optimus Prime, but she decided that Crash had heard enough about her problems for one day. "What happen? Did the quack screw up and you got months to live? Wanna slap a lawsuit on his ass?"

"It's nothing he did; it's something he found out." Crash explained. He twisted his head over to the side to face her.

He told her about the second function of his masquerading device. She stared at him shocked. "So that things wired to blow is someone tries to remove it."

"That's right." Crash hung his arm off the edge of the recharge cot.

"And you didn't know about this until Ratchet told you thirty minutes ago." Crash's following silence was answer enough for her. She put out her joint and studied her shoes. "Crash, I hate that someone would do that to you. In fact, it pisses me off thinking about it. Can anything be done?"

"Only if you know the disarming code." Crash muttered. "Ratchet won't touch it unless he knows it and I don't blame him."

"Damn." Margery shook her head in sympathy. She couldn't imagine how fearful it must be to have something inside you that could go off and kill you. Shit, she should know since she pumped and smoked the poison into her body. "Will a Jolt help?"

"No, but it'll make me feel better." He called his Shooter from subspace into his hand and rolled onto his back. He pressed the end to his optic and shot up. He dropped it to his side and released a low sigh.

Margery got to her feet and stepped over to the recharge berth. It was taller than her head, but she could reach up and grab the edge easily enough. Hauling herself up, wasn't.

She grunted and her arms ached as she managed to tuck her elbows over the edge and then got her knee over the edge. She moaned as she was finally on the recharge berth on her knees beside Crash's elbow. "Thanks for not helping me."

"I had faith in you." Crash replied looking up at the ceiling.

"I think I pulled a muscle in my arm." She rubbed her arm giving him a hard glare. "You're gonna have to help me get down, ya know."

"Why come up here if you can't get down yourself?" Crash asked with irritation in his voice.

"I don't know." Margery snapped. "I'm high, who the hell knows why I do the things I do."

"You're crazy." Crash replied. He slowly and gently scooped Margery into one hand. Margery lowered herself backwards into his palm and bend her legs to her chest as he lifted her and placed her onto his chest.

"Putting me here to keep an eye on me?" Margery mused watching him with pale eyes.

"No, I want your fat butt to hide my horrible paint job." Crash poked at her.

She looked at her a chipped away patch near her foot. She slipped off a glove and scratched at it with a fingernail, flick more up.

"Hey!" He yelped.

"Did I hurt you?" She looked up at him concerned.

"No, but don't make it worse than it already is."

"Ratchet gonna freshen this up for ya?"

"I'm thinking of a whole new paintjob completely."

"Oh? What colors?"

"I don't know. Maybe my old ones. Turquoise and red like my old paintjob."

Margery studied his body around her and shook her head. "Sorry, babe, I don't see it."

"It matched my optics."

She shook her head again. "I still don't see it. Why did you switch from those colors to . . .these?"

"I . . .didn't want to be recognizable." He replied. He had chosen the drabbest colors he could find when he went into a Painter's Shop. The color job artist gave him a peculiar look when he gave him his selection, but asked no questions and went to work.

"Did you change your eyes, or are you able to do that?"

"We can, but not a lot of people like to. It's a risky procedure and expensive. I didn't have enough money."

"So that's why your eyes seem so out of place on your body." She traced the chipped away patch with a fingertip thoughtfully. "Don't change it."

"Don't worry, my optics aren't going anywhere."

"I meant your paintjob. Have him freshen up, don't change it."

"Huh?" He tilted his head forward to look at her.

"Your paintjob . . .it's you, it makes you Crash in my eyes." She rubbed her face with her hand embarrassed and said, "How would you like it if I got a tanned, bleached my hair blonde, and got green contacts?"

"You humans can change your paintjobs?" He looked amazed.

"What? A week of television and you haven't learned that yet?"

"You got me watching oldies!" Crash admonished. "Women wore their hair long and in skirts, damn, you strut around in man's pants shocks me! And the cussing, oh my!" He threw his hand to his brow as if he was about to faint.

"Quit playing with me, I'm being serious."

"Don't change your paintjob. You look great in black and white."

"You think I'm black and white?"

"Aren't you? You have a white face and what I've been of your hands, their white. You have a black hel . . .hair and clothes."

"Never thought of it that way." Margery stretched her legs out before her, her shoes nearly touching his neck.

"Want me to put you down or are ya gonna sleep there like a cat?"

"Meow."

"I'd thought you be afraid of cats after the way Ravage chased you."

"He didn't chase me. He cornered me and pinned me to the floor. He was lucky he left too, because I was about to make my move."

"What? Scratch your nose? Beat at him feebly?"

"Optimus Prime knows about what happened in the bathroom."

Crash's optics brightened and he looked at her. "He does? Did you tell him?"  
"Bus transit had a camera somewhere and it got me entering the bathroom and leaving it after Ravage."

"Does he know about what you were doing in the bathroom?" Crash eyed her, not wanting her to get into trouble.

Margery looked him straight in the face and said, "I told him I was masturbating."

Crash wasn't exactly sure what masturbating was, but he knew it was a sexual organic act and very, very privately done. And was NOT something you tell Optimus Prime about.

"You. Did. Not. Tell. Him. That." Crash hissed. He would have sat up on his elbows if she wasn't on his chest.

Margery cackled and said, "No, I was aborting my baby with a coat hangar."

"Be honest, what did you tell him?"

"I was changing out a tampon." Margery held up her hands and said, "That's the honest truth, I told him that."  
"You know, you left me a little something the last time you sat on me." Crash eyed her suspiciously. "Sparkplug had to clean it out with asepticare."

Margery's jaw dropped. "You are kidding me. You know I didn't do it on purpose."

"Did . . .I was too jolted back then to ask you this . . .but did Ravage hurt you?"

"A little."

"How much damage is a little?"

She sighed and rolled back her sleeve to show him the bruises and scabbed nicks there. Then she lifted her pants left and showed him the shallow bites. This really upset him. He had expected dents in her flesh, but these ugly rough looking marks.

"Will these . . .will you be able to repair them?" He would hate for her to carry these ugly wounds for the rest of her life.

"Of course, I'll heal." She said lightly touching the fresh scabs. "Scabs just protect the hurt spot until the skin replaces itself and then it falls off. A lot easier than having somebody beat out the dents."

"Sometimes our internal repairs fix that, but it's not as nasty looking."

"He actually hurt me the most on my shoulders." She slipped off her jacket and pulled the neck of her shirt down to show off her shoulders. The fresh bruises had blossom into dark shades of purple and gray. Crash stared at them aghast.

"Don't they hurt?" Crash reached out to lightly touch her shoulder with a fingertip. He expected to feel the incurve of a dent, but just warm flesh instead. Triggerflex would be having a field day inspecting the injuries of a fleshie.

"A little if I move my shoulders too much. I had to take off my bra when I got in here."

Crash winced and said, "Primus, and I let you climb up here yourself."

"Hey, don't treat me like an invalid." Margery readjusted her shirt and slip back on her jacket.

Crash leaned his head back and realized how much it scared him to see Margery hurt. She was vulnerable, easily punctured, marked, and could easily be destroyed, deactivated, be shut down forever. It hurt him to realize that loosing her would hurt him as much as it hurt him eons ago when . . .

Did he make a wise choice befriending Margery?

"Crash, what are you going to do when they're through with you here?"

He looked at her and said, "What do you mean?"

"I mean, are you coming back with me to Alabama or stay here?"

"I . . .I want to come back with you, but . . ." Crash rolled his head to the side. "I owe these guys. They saved my spark, they repaired me even when it cost them resources, let me energize, and didn't try to get any payback when I came in and caused all that trouble. Slag, they've been even nice to me. I can't just say thanks for all your help and go back to Alabama without giving something back."

"You going to join them?" Margery asked looking at him with soulful eyes.

"Slag, no! I didn't join a faction back when this war started, I'm not going to join them now." Crash looked at the ceiling and continued, "But I can't take and go, Margery. I want . . .I want to be a better person than that."

"So you're going to do some work around here?"

"If they'll let me, but I'm afraid that they'll have better uses for me. Like spy work and infiltration with my masquerade." Crash rolled onto his side, slowly, and Margery slid onto the berth like she was on a kiddie slide. She sat tucked against his chest staring over to her left at his face. "But I can't . . .I'm . . .I'm too scared to . . ."

"Then they can't make you." Margery assured him.

"Primus . . ." He remembered the explosive device implanted within him and the fear came back to him like rushing drug. "Margery, I'm so scared. I'm scared of what the Autobots will want me to do, scared of the Decepticons, scared of this thing inside me, I've been scared for so long . . .I want to run to just get away, hop into my skiff and just go, but I got this thing in me that I can't get away from. I can go anywhere in the universe, but I can't get away from this . . ."

Margery felt him shiver and she crawled over his upper arm to be sitting against his throat and jaw. If he was human or her size at least, she would have put her arms around him, draw him to lay his head on her lap, but that was impossible due to his size. All she could do was rub her palm against his cheek in soothing circles.

"I understand how you feel, babe, I do. I have this clairvoyance thing on me too. I'm afraid of it too and I can't get rid of it either." She bit her lip and said, "We're both screwed, huh?"

Crash smiled weakly and said, "Yeah, we're screwed."

She leaned forward and leaned her cheek against his jaw. "But we're both screwed together at least. God or Primus is kind enough to give us that much at least."

If it wasn't wise to befriend her, then it was a mistake he was willing to make again.

* * *

"Human clairvoyant has been located." Soundwave reported to Megatron within the command chamber of the underwater base.

"Excellent, where?" Megatron turned in his throne/command chair to face his third in command.

"Her home is Alabama. The southern part of the state."

Megatron's dark eye ridges rose. "So she is located in the same area as our plans . . .this must indeed be a fortunate sign."

"Since when did you get superstitious?" Starscream squawked from the far side of the chamber.

Soundwave held out a datapad to Megatron. "Here is a report about the human. It is . . .interesting."

Megatron eyed Soundwave strangely as he accepted the datapad. Soundwave never tacked on comments like that unless it was something interesting like he said. It was a police record and it was interesting.

The girl was arrested for possession of illegal substances four times, stealing school property, resisted arrest, sent to juvenile detention for almost two years, been suspected and accused of prostitution, a suicide attempt where she was sent to the psychiatric ward, and there was a report being written up of an incident between her and a Sheriff Gregs.

Megatron rubbed his chin and as he read the report. "An addicted, suicidal . . ."prostitute" with the ability to download information with a single touch? Fortunately for her, she'll have the honor of serving the Decepticon Army, bring some worth to an otherwise worthless husk of flesh."

* * *

Margery sneezed, nearly onto Crash's face.

"Hey." Crash said in a voice she wanted to believe was sleepy. "I was just powering down."

"Sorry, I was about asleep too." She huddled against his jaw and neck and closed her eyes. "I don't know why, but I've been sneezing on and off. I think I got an allergy to something up here."


	13. Fight

A lot of F bombs in this chapter. You have been warned.

Gantt is a small town that my Grandma used to live before she died. There was a small power plant with a dam that we would go by each time we visited. Just notes for the fic.

* * *

Margery woke up with stiff back and leaning against the lines and large pipes that consisted of his throat.

"God." She moaned as she stretched out her protesting legs and felt her bruises making themselves known. "That bastard Ravage."

She checked on Crash. He was still sleeping, recharging, whatever a giant robot does when he's like this. His optics was off and his body was relaxed. She pressed her ear against his chest, but heard nothing. Not the constant whirring, distant pulsing, and clicking that she heard when he was 'awake'.

However, if she held her breath and listened, she could hear something working in there. Like a hum a computer makes when it's been running for long time. What was that running in there?

She flexed the ache out of her legs and wanted to get down and take some Tylenol for the pain. She looked over the edge, it was a pretty big drop, but she climbed up here, and she could damn well climb down.

Easier said than done.

She scooted backwards off the edge and lowered herself legs first. Her shoulders throbbed with pain. Maybe the bones were bruised also. She dropped herself onto her feet, her feet and legs jolted with pain when she landed.

She walked over to the far side of the room where her purse had been tucked away in the corner with her drugs, bra, and Tylenol inside. She took three tablets into her mouth and held them under tongue. While her mouth produced saliva, she wondered what she should do next.

Why the hell was she wondering what to do next? She was inside a giant spaceship inhabited by giant robots, what was there NOT to do.

Well, she could give Grandma Rose a call.

She swallowed the pills, took a small shot of heroin, and then took off a shoe and approached the door.

* * *

She was met with an interesting sight when she entered the Ark's lounge. The kids, plus a sleepy Carly and a Spike with a healing bruise unwrapping McDonald's wrapped sandwiches and Bumblebee nursing from an energon cube. 

As she approached the miniaturize table, no doubt for small robots like Bumblebee, Spiked noticed her.

"Hey, we brought breakfast."

"Hey, and you are . . .?" Margery approached with crossed arms and head tilted.

"Spike Witwicky, and this is Carly and you already know the kids."

"Unfortunately." She glanced at the three kids digging into hotcakes. "You haven't gotten in touch with their parents?"

"No." Carly looked so tired when she said that. "I told Optimus to get in touch with Child Protection services and have them pick up."

"Not a bad idea.' Margery replied.

"Hey, if you don't mind my asking," Spike spoke up, "why do you wear gloves?"

"Because she's afraid of germs!" Jasina pipe through a mouthful of syrup and chewed up pancake.

"Yeah, she's Mar-germy!" Freda laughed.

Margery fixed Spike with a cool look and said, "I have a skin condition."

Spike shifted uncomfortably under Margery's gaze and apologized, "Sorry for asking."

"Is there a phone I can use? I need to call someone in Alabama."

"I can show you where one is." Carly said scooting out of her chair the words left her mouth. "Spike and Bumblebee can look after the kids for a while."

"Carly, no!" Bumblebee pleaded.

Spike had taken a huge bite out of a McMuffin when Carly made her offer and was choking to protest. However, Carly had moved around the table and took Margery's arm and led her out of the lounge.

"Thank you, God." Carly whispered when they were both in the hallway. She let out a long sigh of relief and released Margery's arm much to her relief. "I am finally away from those kids."

"Any second like that is a blessing." Margery replied.

"How long have you known them?" Carly asked leading the way down the hall.

Margery shrugged. "Since they was little when I bought the trailer. First, it was just Freda and Charlie comin' and goin' and then Jasina got big enough to tag along."

"Do you live alone?"

"Yeah."

"For how long?"

"Since I was sixteen."

"Wait!" Carly stopped staring at Margery amazed. "You lived alone since you were my age? How did you manage to have a job and go to school?"

"Easy. I didn't work and drop out of school." Margery turned feeling very irritated at the girl. "Look, I want to get to the phone and call somebody, not play twenty questions."

Carly looked embarrassed and murmured a small apology. Margery felt a sliver of guilt for her rudeness. The kid was only trying to be friendly, hell, to even be her friend, but Margery didn't want a new friend . . .Crash was more than enough for her.

* * *

Crash powered on and his optics came online. His sensors looked for the weight at his neck and detected nothing. He slid a hand up the berth and found nothing. He sat up carefully and looked down the length of the berth. No Margery. 

"Margery?"

Nothing on the floor. He swung his legs over the edge and called again. "Hey, Margery."

Did someone let her out? No, she said she threw her shoe at the door switch. That's probably what she did and got out.

He got up to go look for her.

* * *

A human phone was located near within a small garage like area that had once been a storage area of the Ark before it crashed into the volcano. It sustained heavy damages that the Autobots moved all the equipment out into other storage areas. When Spike and Sparkplug frequented the Ark so much, Wheeljack and Sparkplug converted the room into a garage for Sparkplugs hobby and side business of restoring cars. 

Cars, some worn out from age and use and others looked as if they had been in severe crashes, lined the far wall. In the far corner was an assortment of tools and devices that Margery couldn't recognize lacking mechanical skills. There was even a small cot with a raggedy pillow and blanket tossed onto it against the far wall.

The phone was located next to the Autobot size doorway. It worked just like every phone; Margery wondered why she thought it wouldn't.

Carly stood over to the side and hadn't said a word more to Margery since her apology. Margery ran out of guilt about her rough actions toward her. If the girl wanted to stew in hurt feelings, that's her business. Margery wasn't her momma, nor was she a nursemaid or some shit like that.

She waited almost minute before getting up with Laurie Edwards. "Hey, Laurie, this is Marge . . ."

"Honey, I am so glad you called. We've been tryin' to get in touch with you." Laurie Edwards voice came over the phone strong and frantic.

Margery felt the blood in her veins chill. "Grandma . . .did she . . ."

"She had a mild stroke yesterday." Laurie Edwards said.

"Oh, shit."

"She's fine, bless her old heart, it happened when a nurse was around so she got immediate treatment, but she's feeling weak."

"Shit." Margery whispered again. Grandma Rose must have still been fretting over the Decepticon attack. Dammit, she should have called last night. "Can I talk to her?"

"I'm afraid not, June Bug, she's sleeping right now. She usually up so early in the morning."

"I understand. I'm on my way back."

Carly looked up at her, her blue eyes curious.

"But you just got to Oregon for your friend." Laurie said. Rose must have told her about her trip to Oregon.

"He's fine. The surgery was a success and he's . . .recovering. It's my Grandma who is sick right now. I'll be done as soon as I can be on my way. Tell her that I love her and I'm on my way home."

"I'll do that and it'll make her happy that you're coming home. She's was awful worried about you since you left."

God in Heaven please have mercy. She caused her grandmother to have a stroke. She wanted nothing more than to sink into the ground and just not exist. She said goodbye and hung up.

Carly hung back and then said, "Is something wrong?"

Margery licked her lips and said, "I . . .I have to go back to Alabama. Where's Crash?"

* * *

"Crash." 

Crash started in the hall and turned to see Optimus Prime standing behind him. He froze like a rabbit in headlights.

Amusement flitted through Prime's optics and he said, "Stop looking at me as if I'm have a laser rifle aimed at you. I just want to talk."

Crash forced himself to look relax, but his joints were locked and his energon flow increased. "Yes sir."

"Ratchet told me about the device inside you. And about how you knew nothing of it."

"Yes." Crash replied.

Prime blue optics studied Crash's aqua optics and said, "Do you want to talk about it?"

Crash shook his head. "No sir."

"If you want to talk . . ." Optimus Prime watched this younger robot, letting his meaning trail off.

"I do." Crash said quickly, gathering his courage. "But . . .not about the device."

"Do you want to go somewhere more private?"

"If that's what you think is best."

"Then follow me." The larger mech turned and led the way around a corner and toward the back of the Ark.

Crash followed at his heels, his mind racing of what he would say and how he would say it. This was Optimus Prime, whose name he only knew from old news reports on Cybertron during the war. In fact, Optimus Prime was considered one of the greatest Primes in Autobot history and he was about to go on a one on one talk with him.

Crash's courage faltered and began to think of excuses to get out of being alone with Optimus Prime. Before he could come up with a convincing excuse, the commander halted at a door and opened it.

"Please, step inside."

He might as well as ordered Crash's execution for the feeling of doom that cracked across Crash's spark. "Ye . . .yes sir."

He might as been entering the Smelting Pits as he walked into Optimus Prime's office. The door shut behind him and he was alone in a strange room with Optimus Prime Commander of the Autobot Army. Primus help him.

"Would you like some energon?" Prime motioned over to a dispenser installed into the far wall.

"No sir." He didn't think he could intake the stuff at this moment.

"What do you want to talk about, son?" Optimus Prime asked him.

Just run across the bridge, don't inch over it, just run and get it over with. "I . . .I . . .well, you . . .I caused trouble . . .sorry . . .but . . .you gave lots . . .so . . .well . . .I . . ."

_I'm am_ _such a glitching fool. _

Optimus Prime didn't look impatient nor did he seem to have a smirk under his facemask. He tilted his head and waited patiently.

Crash collected himself and said so straightly, it later shocked him at how calm he said it, "I'm sorry that I caused so much trouble when I got here. It was wrong for me to try to steal from you and I am sorry about that. I was wrong and I'm not going to try to excuse my actions or win your sympathy with a sob story. I'm very grateful for your Medical Chief saving my spark and for all the work and resources that went into repairing me."

"We're very glad to have helped you, Crash." Optimus Prime replied.

Then it came to the crutch in the road. "Umm . . .is . . is there anything you want from me?"

Optimus Prime even looked confused. "I'm sorry, I don't understand."

Crash wondered if he was pulling his leg. "Sir, I . . .you used a lot of resources to help me, resources that could have . . .should have been for your mechs. You . . have to want compensation."

"Crash, no, we are not looking or asking for compensation." Optimus Prime shook his head. "That is not our way as Autobots. We don't help the weak and those who are in need to expect them to pay us back. You were hurt, you needed help, and we helped, that's all there is to it."

It was Crash's turn to shake his head. "I . . .I don't believe that. I mean . . .I have a masquerade ability, a very unique and valuable ability and you don't want me to . . .become a spy for you . . ."

"I won't lie to you, Crash." Optimus Prime said crossing his arms. "An ability such as yours would be valuable in our war, but you would not be an asset if you joined us against your will."

"I don't . . .understand."

"Son, each of the Autobots in this ship are here because they want to be here, because they want to fight, because they fully believe in protecting others from the Decepticon threat." Optimus Prime reached out and grasped Crash's shoulder startling the smaller mech. "Each one of them is valuable because they're willing to put their sparks into their roles and missions. If you feel any less than that, Crash, then I don't want you to join us. If you want to fight on our side, then join us, but don't join us because you feel obligated to. You'll put others in danger along with yourself."

Crash looked down at his feet and said, "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize, you've done nothing wrong."

_He was nothing. _

He thought having an ability such as his made him invaluable to any who would have him. He didn't get the message behind Optimus Prime's words, his mind took in 'not an asset', 'don't want you to join us', and 'less than that' and threw them back to echo across his mind. He looked up at the larger mech and said, "It's because I'm a Jolter, isn't it?"

Optimus Prime remained silent and stared at the troubled bot.

"I know you know. Ratchet, Primus, had opened me up and poked around in me too much not to know. I'm surprised you haven't tried to take it away from me."

"I would like to, but I know that it wouldn't be wise to do so." Optimus Prime said softly. "Only if you want to stop, then you will stop."

"Then I'm not going to stop. I can't stop, I can't stop being like this, I can't stop being me." Crash released a painful sigh and said, "I'm going to find Margery. I can at least be with someone who understands me . . .Primus was kind enough to give me that much."

He slipped away from Optimus Prime's hand and headed for the door.

"Crash."

He stopped and craned his neck to look at Optimus Prime.

"I don't know what happened to you in the past, but things will get better at one point."

Crash thought about Margery and said, "I think things are going to be as good as they're going to get for us."

Prime didn't need to ask who 'us' was.

When Crash opened the door, he came through a footstep of stepping on Margery and Carly. "Margery?"

"Crash, listen, my Grandma had a stroke."

Crash stared down at her blankly. "Is that . . .a bad thing or a good thing?"

Margery didn't rebuke him knowing that he was still unfamiliar with human illnesses. "A bad thing. Bad enough for me to have to go back to Alabama and be with her."

A flurry of emotions passed through Crash. Hurt, dread, betrayal, and jealousy. "Now?"  
"Yes, now. She's sick, Crash. I need to go back and be with her."

"Isn't she being repaired?"

Optimus Prime stepped forward with an explanation. "Crash, when humans reach a certain age, it gets harder to repair them and their internal repairs don't function very well." He looked down at Margery and said, "What is her condition?"

Margery drew back surprised and said, "They say she's fine, but it's a stroke and she's my grandma."

"What's a grandma anyway?" Crash asked.

Again Optimus Prime gave an explanation. "Margery's grandmother is her creator's creator." He switched to Margery, "I can have Powerglide fly you down."

Again Margery was surprised, "You mean . . .a plane Autobot?"

"Yes, he can get you there in less than a day."

"Better than a two day trip."

Crash was feeling his spark drop away from his frame bit by bit.

"When can we leave?" Margery asked.

"Let me radio him." Optimus Prime access his radio. "Optimus Prime to Powerglide."

"Powerglide here." Came the reply.

"Are you up to some cross country flying? With some passengers?"

Margery blinked her eyes. Passengers? It was just herself . . .oh shit. . .

"Passengers? Primus, not those little . . ."

"They'll have a chaperone with them." Optimus came her a questioning look.

Margery decided not to push her luck. This was a big favor considering how she was a bitch earlier with this Autobot. "I can't make any promises. There's one of me and three of them. Give me a cattle prod and thing of mace and maybe I can make things work."

Optimus chuckled as if she was making a joke. "You'll do it right, Powerglide, Miss Kayla needs to get home as soon as possible."

"Alright. I'll meet 'em outside."

"Optimus Prime out."

"Thank you, Optimus Prime." Margery said and meant it. "It means a lot to me."

"You're leaving now!" Crash managed to blurt out.

"Yes, I'm leaving now! Were you not listening?"

"I can take you to Alabama!"

"In one day?"

"I'd break a lot of speed limits, but I can do it."  
"Flying sounds safer."

"Then you haven't met the guy!"

"I don't need to know the guy as long as he can get me to Alabama in one piece."

Crash grunted something in Cybertronian and crossed his arms. He was the pure picture of sulking.

"Omigod, you're jealous!" Margery exclaimed pointing a finger at him. "I cannot believe you are jealous!"

"Am not." Crash snapped. "If you want to fly across the continent with some showoff, then that's your choice!"

"I don't have a choice! Hello! My grandma had a stroke! She's sick and I'm going to be with her!" Margery crossed her arms over her chest and continued, "I mean, I dropped everything and came up here for you! Why shouldn't I do the same for my own flesh and blood?"

"Oh! So I'm not flesh and blood, is that it!"

"What the fuck? No! I meant she's related to me. You are my friend, but she is my grandmother."

Crash looked as if Margery had slapped him across the face. "So . . .I'm just a friend, huh?"

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Margery yelled. "I cannot believe that you are now jealous of my grandma."

"I am not! Why should I be jealous of an organic of whom a single stroke of something is enough to knock her flat!"

"Don't talk about my grandmother that way? She took care of me and put up with my bullshit for years and she's the only who cares about me in this world!"

"Oh, so since I'm not 'your flesh and blood' and just your 'friend' my caring about you means nothing?"

"Stop putting fucking words into my mouth! Damn! I'm starting to wonder why the flying fuck I came up here! I burned up over a hundred dollars coming up here for your ass. I get attacked by Ravage, bruised all to hell up, not to mention getting robo-cat bit! I get up here and get interrogated! Now you're throwing this shit into my face. Well, guess what. Fuck you! Fuck your damn bomb, fuck your paintjob, and fuck Oregon. Kiss my ass!"

She turned on her heel and stalked off by Carly who was standing back wide eyed. Several Autobots were in the halls, having been alerted by the yelling and swearing, and hung back watching. Optimus Prime, who had been rooted to the spot by the eruption of screaming and anger, began to do something about it. "Crash, wait . . ."

Crash stepped into the hallway and hollered after the retreating dark figure. "Fuck you too! Whatever that means. Fuck you, fuck your grandma, fuck Powerglide, fuck Alabama. Go to your grandma! I don't need you! Don't know why you came anyway! I didn't ask you to come!"

Margery didn't turn around, in fact, she increased her speed down the hall. Crash watched her go and said, "Margery, I . . .I'm sorry . . .we're still friends right?"

"Go to hell!" She threw over her shoulder and he noticed the deep strained in her voice.

"Primus of the Martix." He darted down the hall after her.

"Get away from me, Crash." Margery hissed not turning to face him as he slowed down behind her.

"Margery, I'm sorry, okay, I shouldn't have acted like that!"

"Yes, you are sorry." She retorted.

"I'm jealous! Okay, I'm sorry, I was jealous. I mean . . .I . . . don't want you to leave me. You just got here and I enjoyed us being together last night."

Carly's blue eyes widen. "Last night?"

"Why'd you act like that?" Margery cried. "Now you got me crying!"

"I didn't mean to make you leak." Crash reached out to grasp her, to stop her from walking from him. You try reasoning with someone not even half you height and walk without stepping on them.

"Don't touch me." She jerked herself away.

"Alright, I won't touch you." Crash jerked his hands back. "Please, stop, and talk to me."

Margery stopped and swallowed a lump in her throat. "We already said what was on our minds, okay."

"No, we said those things because we got angry."

"No, we said those things because you were actin' like jackass."

"I'm a jackass." Crash admitted not even knowing that that meant.

"You don't even know what a jackass is."

"You're right, I don't know what a jackass is, but I am one."

Margery shook her head and wiped her eyes. "I don't have time to do the whole make up thing with ya."

"So we're still friends?" Crash said hopefully.

"Shit, I stole money from my Grandma's purse, lied to her, even cussed her out a few times and she's still there for me. How the hell can I do any less for you?" Margery snorted and said, "She'd be all preachy about forgiveness and stuff. If this is the worst fight we ever have, then we're already doing fine, babe."

"Margery, I . . ."

"Hold it, I'm still pissed." Margery held up a hand. "And I need some space from you for a while. So I'll call you tonight and we'll talk about what happened."

"If that's what you want."

"Exactly." She spotted the onlookers in the hallway and shouted, "What the hell this looks like? A movie? Give us money or get the hell outta here!"

As Autobot scuttled away, Optimus Prime and Carly stared down the hall amazed. Carly shook her head and said, "Optimus, this reminds me of a fight I had with Spike two weeks ago. We fought, broke up, and made up within an hour, just like this."

"They . . .must really care about each other . . ." Optimus commented.

* * *

Just as Powerglide was leaving Oregon with his four passengers, three rowdy and one cussing, the Decepticons were making their movie in south Alabama by taking over the small hydro-electrical power plant inside of Gantt in Covington County. 


	14. Sweet Home Alabama

One of my fave episodes of Transformers was The Girl who Loved Powerglide because it had some good scenes that I liked.

1. When the Coneheads were trying to kidnap Astoria, there was TWO Decepticons trying to over take ONE human female. Something about that scene made me laugh, was she THAT strong? When they finally kidnap her, it takes TWO Decepticons to carry her off.

2. Whenever Powerglide takes Astoria by the hand, which happens a lot in this episode, she looks like a little girl being led by the hand.

3. My fave scene was in the psycho probe machine. Soundwaveturns it on to steal information from Astoria's mind and then reports "Subject's mind completely empty". Next scene was when Rumble and Soundwave were holding thescanners (if they're called that) against her headand Megatron turns on the machine.Ihad to laugh with Astoria as the Rumble and Soundwave almost got killed from electrocution.

4. My most fave scene in the Transformers serieswas when Powerglide tries tofix the floatingfortress in order to steer it, but it won't work because Astoria is a jinx to any machine. He tells her to "Get outta here, you're jinxing the controls", she's in the middle of refusing and thenwe snap to a scene of her flying out of the room as if Powerglide football punted her.

I guess I'm talking about the ep because Powerglide's gonna make some references to it in this chapter.

* * *

Margery had no choice, but to hold little Jasina on her lap while Charlie and Freda shared the right seat together. The initial take off made her heart stop and her ears hummed as he ascended because the kids squealed and screamed as they passed through the clouds.

"Aright, back there?" Powerglide called as he leveled off and headed off into a southeastern direction.

"Yeah." Margery manage to say over Jasina bouncing on her lap.

"Dive, dive, dive!' The kids yelled in unison.

"Alright!" The view in the windshield pitched forward and they could see the ground growing larger and larger.

Margery shrieked with terror as the kids shrieked with glee. Powerglide whooped as he sharply lifted his nose up and streak vertically upwards. He performed a graceful loop and ended with a roll. Margery felt as if her insides were strung all over the cockpit.

By the time he was leveled off again, her hair was tangled, her heart pounding against her ribs, and her feet were at the edge of the consoles as if she had reflexively going through the motions of curling into a fetal position. The kids screaming themselves hoarse and kept on screaming, begging for more.

The kids were whooping it up, but to the Autobot's delight and Margery gritted her teeth. "No! No! No!" She banged the soles of her shoes against the console. "Get us to Alabama without killing us! Damn!"

"Shut up, Mar-germy!" Charlie yelled at her from the seat he was stuffed in with Freda, they both had to share a seatbelt. "We were having fun!"

"Okay, no problem, got that outta my system." Powerglide said soothingly. "We'll have a smooth ride."

Margery tucked her hair behind her ears and realized that Crash had been right; this guy really was a showoff like he said. But she would walk through Hell barefoot before she would admit that to him.

She had taken a shot of heroin before they left. She felt she would need it after the row with Crash, handling the kids, calming her nerves as she worried about Grandma Rose, and holding Jasina in her lap. The heroin kept her from picking anything up from the girl and made her patient during the trip.

As the hours past, and the drug began to loose its affect, she felt tremors of guilt about Crash. Of course, he would be upset and disappointed that she would leave after just arriving. And being that he was creature made of metal where elderly ailments such as strokes, heart attack, and old age meant nothing to him so he must not have really understood why she needed to return to her grandmother's side.

She held an arm around Jasinia's small waist and leaned on the armrest, in deep thought. Something had to be wrong with Crash for him to go at her like that. It hurt her to think he was in pain and she wasn't there to be an outlet for him to talk to or soak in her sympathy. Maybe it was Crash that needed her more. . .

Well, it was too late now. Powerglide said they were over Wyoming, she already told Laurie she was on her way, and she did tell Crash she would call him later.

Little did she know she would not be calling him that night and that Powerglide was flying her toward a Hell that she would never have imagined or conceived?

The kids would have fun all the same.

* * *

The Gantt power plant was over taken easily and the human employees were enslaved. They were made to continue working the factory, but under the steady gazes of Decepticon overseers.

Megatron was giving out orders to collect more human slaves to increase the energon output of the hydro-electric plant. Though, some of the slaves will be sent over to south of Andalusia and Opp where the launching pad for the new weapon would be built. The Constructicons would be sent through Babbie to begin construction while the Seekers and Insecticons went westward to Andalusia to collect native labor with and the Combaticons went to eastward to Opp.

Meanwhile, Soundwave would surround the perimeter with jamming beacons to prevent cell phone or radio frequencies from going out or coming through, only Decepticon wave lengths will pass through.

He was also on the side missions of finding Margery Kayla who would become Megaron's private human pet.

* * *

Sideswipe and Blaster came to his quarters with Sunstreaker in tow with over spiked energon cubes, virtual cards, and metallic chips. They also pulled a table into the room making the small area more cramp than it already was. What annoyed Crash was that they just came in and didn't ask if he wanted to play, but he had no right to ask them to leave. This room was more theirs than it was his anyway.

He wanted to be alone. He was still mentally kicking himself for the fight with Margery. What was he thinking? Obviously a grandma was important to humans nd he should trust her as a friend that if she needed to go then she would need to go. She did after all come all the way across the country to be with him, then how could he expect her to do any less for something that was important to her?

That was what bothered him. He had imagined that he was the most important person to her just as she is the most important person to him. He still felt hurt and betrayed and even jealous . . .she was right about that. He even felt guilt at these harsh feelings. He didn't own Margery, though she was small enough to be his pet if he wanted . . .Margery as a pet . . .scary thought.

Crash and Sideswipe sat on the recharge berth, Blaster used the bedside table as a seat, and Sunstreaker laid claim to the only chair. They taught him the rules of poker, what they believed the rules to be.

"Do you have any Queens?" Crash asked Blaster.

"No, flush."

Crash put this two threes into the pile in the center of the table of what Sideswipe called the pot. "This is weird game."

"Just remember, whoever gets the Joker, gets the pot." Sideswipe reminded everyone as he took card from a stack like each did when they took their turn.

"How do you win, again?" Crash asked staring at his cards.

"When you run outta cards." Sunstreaker said with a tilt of his head that mimicked a human rolling his eyes

"Hey, Blaster play that song I told ya Crash might like." Sideswipe said with a smirk.

Blaster tapped a button at his shoulder and a song by Theory of a Dead Man started beating from his chest. Crash listened to it carefully and the lyrics as the game continued. When the song ended he said, "But Margery didn't pour gasoline on my bed and she's gone to Alabama, not Santa Monica."

* * *

Michaels was pulled out of sleep by loud crunching noises outside. He opened his eyes to see his on and off girlfriend, Tiffany, curled naked on her side, sheets tangled in her supple legs, and silky blonde hair tangled from rough handling during last night's fuck.

He listened for the noise and heard nothing. He sidled against Tiffany's back, throwing an arm over her waist and closed his eyes.

CRUNCH

His eyes popped open. Alright, something was out there and it sounded like it was where he parked his car. Shit.

He rolled out of bed, stepped into and pulled up a pair of jeans discard from last night. He reached into the bedside drawer and drew out a Browning gun and tucked it into the front of his pants.

Tiffany moaned and said in a very sleepy voice, "Mike, honey, what's wrong?"

"Shh . . .I think somebody's out there fucking up my car." He crept across the floor to the bedroom doorway.

"Shit, might be my dad." Tiffany moaned. "He mighta seen us together last night after all."

"Stay here and be quiet." Michaels told her as he left the room.

His bare feet sank into the dirty carpet as he made his way to the front door. During this all this time, the crunch and metal screeching became more and more constant. Whatever those punks are doing, they're doing it thorough.

He silently counted to three, to pull up his bravado and show a strong face. The safety was off and the gun was loaded. He didn't plan on killing the bastards unless they had guns themselves, but a few shots fired would scatter them like a bunch of pussy rabbits.

He flung the door open and ran out onto the grass gun held high. "Hold it muthafuckers . . .holy shit. . ."

Three very big metallic looking insects that had been munching on his car turned and looked at him. One had a strip of the driver's door hanging from its mouth, one with very long curved white antennas was standing on the hood of the mangled car, and the third was half on and half off the bumper and it had a very long tube like stalk on its head.

Michaels stood frozen gun lowered staring in dumfounded shock. Then to his horror, the one with his car door quickly chewed up and eat the door within one horrified minute and then said, "Should we collect him, Shrapnel?"

"Yes, if we go back without any humans, then Megatron will throw a tantrum, tantrum." The long antenna one replied.

Before Michaels could register what they were saying, they transformed into much bigger robots. Michaels screamed and turned to run into the house.

"Hey, is it my dad?" Tiffany called from inside the house.

Before Michaels could touch the door, a blast of purple hit the ground at his feet and he was thrown backwards. The air flew out of his as his back skidded across the grass and the gun flew out of his hand (why didn't he think to fire it at the insects beforehand?)

An even lager robot landed on the other side of the yard and he looked a lot scarier than the robotic bugs. He held of lethality about him as if he would kill you simply and coldly if he needed to or even wanted to. He held a smoking gun in hand and it was aimed right at Michaels.

"Mikey! Is my dad out there? Yes or no!"

_Dumb blonde bitch . . . _

"No, it isn't! I wish it was!" Michaels called back, his voice wavering near panic.

"Thank you, God!" Tiffany called with relief apparent in her voice.

_Oh, God, is that big robot checking me out? Shit!_

Soundwave stared at the human and felt a string of familiarity. He access his memory banks and pulled up:

_a human male, dark hair, blue optics, with desired poison, desired body, lust, human sexual ORGANIC LUSTING SEX!_

Soundwave red optic band stayed on the human for a while and said, "Margery Kayla, where is Margery Kayla?"

"What? Margery? I . . .Jesus . . .she's . . .she went to Oregon."

"Who the hell is that out there about that slut?" Tiffany yelled.

Oregon! Soundwave's optics flared red with anger. She was back in Oregon with those meddling Autobots. . .

Though the large robot was standing as emotionless as a pole, Michaels saw the flare in the eyes and learned from experiences from his father when he was boy to feel anger radiating from someone like a powder keg. "She . . .her grandmother . . .suffered a stroke . . .she might be on her way back to see her . . ."

"Where?" The robot steadied the lethal gun at him.

"Mikey! I'm talking to you!" Tiffany yelled angrily.

"TIFFANY, SHUT THE HELL UP!" Michaels roared into the doorway.

"Yeah, Tiffany, shut up!" The robot with the yellow antennas piped.

"Who the hell is out there?" This was followed by a shriek of terror when Tiffany shoved open the shutters and saw the Insecticons.

Michaels silently wondered why God made blondes be so sexy and so dumb at the same time. "Tiffany, baby, put some clothes on, okay!"

"Please, put some clothes on, clothes on." The long antenna one winced as Tiffany ripped out with another screech.

A purple blast erupted half a foot from Michael's left leg. Soil and singed grass spurted into his face and he shielded it with his hands and arms.

"Where?" Soundwave repeated, his monotone voice deepening several octaves.

Michaels' heels dug into the grass as he scooted himself against the wall of his house. "A nursing home a five miles down the road . . .it's called Well Fairing."

Soundwave lifted his head to the Insecticons. "Take the humans to the station. Stop eating."

With that said, Soundwave's feet left the air and Michaels watched the Decepticon fly over his house and headed in direction of the nursing home. He turned terror filled eyes toward the three remaining robots.

Sharpnel had a gun aimed at the human and said, "Don't bother trying to run. We're not in the mood to chase after you, after you."

Bombshell aimed his gun at the house and said, "Alright, Tiffany, come out here with your clothes on."

* * *

The game was finished, not because someone won, but because Blaster had to go back on duty and Sunstreaker got fed up with the game. They left Crash and Sideswipe alone in the quarters.

The red Lamborghini was fiddling with the virtual cards, creating some sort of building. Crash watched him, sitting on the berth and said, "Thanks."

"For what?" Sideswipe said trying to steadily leaning two cards against each other on the second tier.

"For trying to make me feel better, but I still don't want to get involved with your prank."

"Naw, I'm over that . . .for now." Sideswipe drew his hands away from the successful balanced cards.

"I guess everyone on this ship knows about the . . .thing." Crash couldn't bring himself to call it the Fight yet.

Sideswipe snickered, much to Crash's surprised. "I heard you two had it right in Optimus's office. Did you really say 'fuck Powerglide'?"

Crash groaned. "Primus, I am so sorry about that. I . . .I just lost it and started yelling."

"Hey, look at who my brother is." Sideswipe replied shuffling the remaining cards. "We have a blowout two or three times a week. We've said stuff that'll melt the paint off your shell, but I know he's just screaming because an hour later it's as if it never happened."  
"But it's different between Margery and me. We have . . .Never mind, it's just different for us." Crash studied his feet, deeply meshed with guilt.

"How so?" Sideswipe went back to balancing the cards again to form a third tier. "Now don't say the obvious that you two aren't twin Cybertronians."

"I can't say." Crash replied softly. "It's not for me to say exactly." How can he describe the deep loneliness he had suffered for so long without knowing until the day he befriended Margery? How can someone who's always had someone, a twin brother, understand what it meant to be alone, completely alone, knowing no one and not able to trust anyone? If he was injured there was no one to go to for help, only to those that would expect something from him for the bother of saving him. It was something Sideswipe couldn't grasp, much less understand and Crash envied him of that.

Sideswipe was halfway finished with the third tier and said, "I know that if you're really as close as you say you are, then you two will look back on this and laugh."

"I didn't say we were close."

"You didn't need to say it." Sideswipe finished up the tier. "Tracks said you were almost on hands and knees begging her to forgive you and she was willing to talk it over with you. Trust me, after tonight, after she calls you, you two are going to laugh about it."

Crash shook his head and said, "How can you be so sure?"

"I know because you two fought." Sideswipe stood back from his mini-construction and said, "Grapple, eat your fuel pump out."

"I thought fighting ended friendships; I never fought with any of my friends like I did with Margery."

"Yeah, sometimes fighting does, but it would have to be over something really big and be a special case. I already told you. Sunstreaker and I would go at it like Autobots and Decepticons, but we still share the same room and we still speak to each other. Slag, I must have at one time or another got into a shouting match or a fist fight with each of the slaggers on this heap. And I'm still here; they haven't banded together, knocked me out, tied me up, and tossed my afterburner into a live volcano. Though, I've heard whispers and giggling whenever I leave the room. I've even see Bumblebee gave me this look . . .so maybe I've spoken too soon."

Sideswipe studied his carefully built creation and tilted his head like an artist surveying a masterpiece and then he held up his hands, fingers curled into claws. "GODZILLA!"

Then with one swipe of his 'claws' the cards came crashing down into a loose pile. One flitted off the table to land beside Crash's foot; he bent down and picked it up. It was a Queen of Spades, but he didn't recognize it as such. He noted that the human female on the card had blue eyes and dark hair with a dark designs on the dress. Slag, this card might as well have Margery on it.

"So fighting doesn't mean anything is what you're trying to tell me." Crash set the card on the pile.

"No, it does." Sideswipe gathered the cards up into a neat deck again. "It means you care. What did you fight about?"

"She needed to leave to see her Grandmother, but I didn't want her to go or at least let me take her." Crash hated talking about it again, but the words tumbled out of his vocaliser. "I didn't want her to leave after just getting here yesterday. I thought we would have spent several days here and then gone home together."

"You fought with her because you cared. Somewhere along the line, she's gotta pick that up. And she cares about you too. If she didn't, she wouldn't have gone looking for you to let you know, she would have gone straight to Optimus Prime and left without letting you know. Slaggit, idiot, she came all the way up here for you, she didn't know her grammy was gonna get sick. You're worrying over nothing." Sideswipe clapped him on the shoulder and said, "Didn't you ever exchange loud words with your old friends?"

Crash's mind went back to when they first met Dodge, how he had yelled at Stormsaint for breaking the vid and the many things he had yelled at Dodge during his many antics . . .their friendship had survived up until . . .Don't remember it.

"Thanks." Crash said to his new friend. "I really appreciate it."

"If you really want to thank me, scare the Pit outta Bumblebee by walking in as Spike and tell him you had a growth spurt."

Crash shook his head. "I shoulda known this was all a plot to trick me into a agreeing to a prank."

"I told ya I was persistent."

* * *

"Sumthin's wrong." Powerglide announced as they passed over Alabamian cotton fields.

Margery felt her heart sink. She knew it, she just knew it. They were going to crash and die five miles outside of town. The kids were wondering around the plane after they got bored with flying after five hours of it. They looked up from their game of cops and robbers where Officer Jasina and Officer Freda had Charlie pinned to the floor with their guns consisting of their hands and fingers.

Margery shifted forward in her seat. "What's wrong?"

"My radio is jammed. I can't get through to the Ark. I was gonna let Optimus know that we were arriving at our destination."

"That's alright." Margery sighed with relief. "Just drop us off outside of town and we can get their by ourselves."

"I can't." Came a very clipped reply.

Margery arched a black eyebrow and said, "Why can't you?"

"Because Optimus said to stick around for a while."

"To keep an eye on me?"

"No, to keep a look out for you. He's worried about Soundwave tryin' to get you. I always get stuck protecting human girls from Decepticons."

"Damn." Margery muttered and rubbed her face. "Fine, just land and lets go to town . . ."

"I'm landing, but you ain't going into town until after I check it out."

Margery stared at the control console. The Autobot was cocky and had a high fine tune to his voice as if he enjoyed life in general, but now it was hard and steady. "What aren't you tellin' me?"

Powerglide didn't reply.

"Powerglide, dammit, my grandma is down there." Margery said through her teeth at the console. She felt the tension in the plane crept around her, something was wrong and it wasn't just the radio jamming.

"The kids are . . ." Powerglide started.

"Don't use the little bastards as an excuse. They won't care, they think this is just one big game. You be straight with me and tell me what the hell is going on."

There was a long pause and Powerglide broke. "Okay, okay, okay. The thing about the radio jamming is that the frequency is blocked and that just so happens . . .you asked for this . . .to be one of Soundwave's specialties."

Margery felt ice build in her veins. "Shit."

"We're goin' back." Powerglide said as he alter his flight course. "When we get outside of the jamming zone, we can notify Optimus and . . ."

"The hell we are. Land your ass on that cow field. We're goin' to get my grandma, now."

"No, we are not. We're going to report to Optimus." Powerglide performed a graceful U-turn.

"Then let me out. I'll go get her and . . ."

"No."

Margery stared at the console with leveled eyes. "Nothing I can say or do to change your mind?"

"Nope."  
"Okay, kids, get 'im."

The kids attacked.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, Powerglide fumed behind Margery as she led the way to the town. The kids lagged behind and prided themselves on actually crashing a plane.

Powerglide will later described as it a bunch of rabid squirrels jumping up and down on his control console. Little Jasina had banged on the switches and numerous buttons with her pink pony. Freda spat on his console and Charlie literally jumped up and down it, screaming at Freda if any of her saliva landed on his shoes.

Powerglide wobbled and lost control and plummeted. Margery and the kids were launched toward the back. Margery's back hit the back wall and the kids collided with her. Jasina's shoe pelted her in the ribs making her croak with agony.

Powerglide pulled up, but not before crashing into a tree, smashing off a bit of his right wing. He hollered with pain as thick branches whipped his sides and little plane skidded across the earth leaving a rooted soil behind him.

When he finally stopped and Margery and the kids were lying in pile of tangled limbs. The dust settled and there was long seconds of silence as the Autobot, the kids, and the woman checked themselves for damages.

"Get out." A low voice order from around them.

The side doors opened and Margery untangled herself from the kids and made her way out. She was slowly followed by the kids. The humans stood on the grass and watched the plane transform.

Powerglide grunted and groaned with pain as he forced his relays into motion and stood straight as a robot. His right shoulder wing was missing its tip and his body laced with intricacies of punishment from the smacking branches on his way down.

He turned glaring blue optics on the humans and said, "You little punks!"

Margery crossed her arms and held her head high. "We're going to get my grandma."

"No, we are not! We're going to lay low until my internal repairs fix the damages YOU caused and then I'm going to fly us out of the jamming zone and contact the Ark."  
"You do that and I'll go see my grandma." Margery turned as if she was going to go on her way.

"The slag you are!" Powerglide reached out and grabbed her arms. "You are just like Astoria!"

"Kids!" Margery yelled like a trumpeter to war.

Powerglide released her just as the kids were about to launch. "Okay, okay, okay, just call the little monsters off! Primus, won't Sideswipe just love this, me grounded by a bunch of ankle biters."

Margery touched a sharp ache in her rib where Jasina had hit during the drop. It hurt when she took in air and released it. It was like a painful bubble underneath her ribs. It made her wince when she ran her fingers lightly over it as the pain shot around to her back.

"Oh, great, now you need repairs too!" Powerglide nearly yelled at her.

"Shut up! Just shut up!" She said through gritted teeth. "Let just go."

* * *

And here they were as they neared the edge of the town. Her leading the way, clutch her bruised rib, Powerglide with gun in hand, and the kids plodding along. As they neared the road, Margery noticed that she hadn't heard one car or truck, not a one.

In fact, a power pole was knocked over and several cars had been crashed into one another and third one flipped with its wheels reaching for the sky. Windows were smashed and broken, and . . .there was a charred body laying on the pavement twenty yards from them.

"Shit." Margery hissed.

Powerglide glanced around, gun up and ready to fire at the merest shadow of a Decepticon. The kids looked around with wide eyes and were silent for once in their short lives. Margery slowly begin to think that this wasn't a good idea after all.

Powerglide muttered something about human females and said, "We got to get outta here."

"Yeah." Margery softly murmured. "But not without my grandma."

Powerglide hissed irritably through his intakes and said, "Ya know these Decepticreeps could be after you. And that doesn't scare you?"

"Yeah, it scares me now." Margery stared at the black, still smoking body. There was a scorched rifle in its hand as if the person had been killed while trying to defend the store . . .or himself.

Margery looked around and then, "Hey! You fucking brats!"

Somehow, in some supernatural way, the kids had, without their notice, gone over to a nearby smashed store window, climbed in, looted the store, and were climbing out. Jasina had packs of cigarettes stuffed into her pockets; Freda had a new lighter and several bras in hand, while Charlie carried an assortment of candy bars and cookies.

"What?" Freda challenged as if they had every right to store loot.

"Put those down! Jasina, take that shit out of your pockets!" Margery ordered.

"Keep ya voices down." Powerglide hissed sharply. "Ya want every Decepticon in the area to hear us!"

Margery glared at the kids, but they stubbornly held onto their prizes. "Fine, I hope you brats get locked up."

"We don't wanna stay with you no more!" Freda yelled. "You're no more fun!"

"Yeah!" Jasinia yelled.

"Keep it down!" Powerglide yelled back. Then he looked up at sky and cursed. "SLAG!"

He wrapped an arm around Margery's waist and lifted her off the ground as he carried her over to the upturned car. The kids instinctively retreated back into the store and watched with wide eyes as the red mini-bot carried Margery with him.

She hissed with pain as his arm, which was thicker than her waist, pressed against her hurt rib. He hunkered down against the car hiding as best he could with his large height compared to humans with Margery against his side.

She looked up at the sky and saw a giant dark blue robot passing overhead. It was larger than Crash and looked more lethal. Somehow, she felt a familiarity toward it, like she knew it from a very bad nightmare.

"Soundwave." Powerglide whispered. "Just like I guessed."

The name Soundwave sent chills up her arms and along her spine so badly she almost didn't feel the pain in her ribs. Then she felt it, a cold weight on her body that made her skin prickle with goose bumps and sweat bead her on forehead. She could only describe it as power, somewhat similar to what she felt from Optimus Prime, but it was nothing like this.

Whereas Optimus Prime's . . .aura . . .was warm, gentle, and something she would like to wrap up in on a freezing cold night like an electric blanket, the aura was cold and sharp as a blade of ice. It was cold, calculating, manipulating, and controlling and would care nothing about harming her to get what it wanted. She didn't know how she knew this last part, but she just knew at a very basic level. And one thing was for sure.

She did NOT want this robot to see her or find her.

The human and the mini-bot remained stunned and quiet, Margery not breathing and Powerglide's intakes stopped functioning. Then as quietly as the robot came, it left. Its large form disappeared in the distance. Both the human and the mini-bot took a sigh of relief.

"He didn't see us." Powerglide muttered as he released her much to her ribs relief. Margery settled against his side and relearned how to breathe. "He must be hurry or got a lot on his circuits cuz he didn't even detect me."

Margery realized her hands were shaking. "Does he ever affect you like this?"

"Like how?"

"Nevermind." She shook her head and then a thought occurred to her. "Shit! He went in the same direction as the nursing home!"

"Aw, Primus! Please, don't tell me that!" Powerglide bemoaned as he stood.

Margery stood up herself, but slowly, her ribs were nothing, but a sharp pain. "We got to go there. I . . .I . . ."

Her eyes were on the body. If Grandma Rose was like that now . . .Margery couldn't care the thought.

Powerglide saw where she was looking and said, "Okay, but we do it my way. The kids can stay in the store until we get back." He lifted his head and yelled, "You kids hear me over there! Stay in that store until we come and get you."

"If we come back." Margery muttered.

Suddenly, her arm was seized in a white hard metal hand. Powerglide's optics were narrowed and his face, being the facemask, was full of anger. "Lissen, honey, you got us into this, okay, I wanted to turn around and give the Ark a shout, but oh no, you just hadda have it your way. It's your oil, so you're going to soak in it."

She could feel it. She could feel his anger, but underlining it was sharp fear. He was scared, Soundwave scared him. Slowly, absorbing into her mind, came frantic and powerful thoughts. He was scared. He couldn't fly, he was outnumbered and out powered even if it was Soundwave, he had no way of calling for backup, and on top of this he was responsible for four humans. He had a bit more on his plate without Margery copping a cynical attitude.

She shrugged out of his grip and hugged her arms around her. Why the fuck was she getting these . . . feelings from the machines all of a sudden. Damn, she needed more poison in her veins, no wonder her hands were shaking.

She reached into her side pocket for her little baggy of weed, syringe, and heroin. As she drew them out of her bag, Powerglide saw it and exploded.

"You're going to get HIGH AT THIS TIME!" He erupted.

He reached out to take the drugs away, but she danced away. "No, Powerglide, I know this looks bad, but I need this. I need to take something to help . . . me relax . . .I won't get high, just enough to make . . . me calm."

Powerglide glared at her, but said nothing. She felt his disapproval and silent anger as he watch her withdraw a small amount of liquid poison into the syringe. When she rolled back a sleeve, she heard a sharp intake of air through his intakes as her bruises were revealed for all the world to see. She ignored him as she injected it into her body. The euphoria erupted like a small bomb from her arm and across her body.

"Better?" Powerglide said bitterly. She nodded as she put away the syringe and drugs back into her side pocket. She lifted her head to meet Powerglide's gaze.

He shook his head and said, "I take back what I said. You're nothing like Astoria."

Margery didn't know who this Astoria was, but she asked, "Is that a compliment or an insult?"  
"You don't wanna know."


	15. Taken

I would have had this up last night, but for some reason I got an error response each time I tried to upload a chapter. Ugh!

Anyway, here's the next chapter. Got a little bit of religion in it, but it does take place within the Bible Belt.

Any suggestions for future chapts? Just curious of what the readers expect to see in coming chapts so I can either disappoint you or make you happy.

* * *

"Ya said you were scared."

Margery looked up at the red mini-bot as he led her over the rubble of an exploded building; it had been the Connors home grocery. It completely unnerved her to see a pace she had frequented many times now in desolation. It felt familiar and foreign all at the same time.

They were almost there.

"Yeah, I'm scared." Margery replied steadily, trying not to look at the rubble as she stepped over it. "But I'm more scared for my grandma. If I'm scared, then imagine how she must feel when it's like this."

Powerglide didn't reply, instead he caught her arm and pulled her after him as an adult pulling a child along. "The sooner we get in and get your grandma, the sooner we can get outta here."

Margery didn't deny that. She stumbled over the pavement and had to skip to stay on her feet. It also wasn't doing much good for her aching ribs. "Slow down, you're gonna end up dragging me alo . . ."

"Shhh!" Powerglide bit flung the both of them behind between a building and a downside truck which fortunately for Powerglide was large and red to help camouflage the Autobot.

Margery strained against Powerglide's large hand on her arm and looked around the edge of the back of the pickup truck. What she saw made her heart stop.

The front wall, windows, and front door were gone. She remembered seeing pictures of coast side hotels after a hurricane hit. It was if the building had been built missing one wall. She could see the inner hall where had had forsaken the elevator for the stairs the last time she visited, when she took her first ride with Crash. She felt sick when she saw that she could make out the upstairs rooms for the guests of Well Fairing. What had once been the wall that hid them from view was smashed into large bits across the street and pavement around Soundwave's ankles.

On the bottom floor, huddled closely together were the nursing home residents, Laurie Edwards, and her grandmother, Rose, leaning heavily against Laurie and looking none for the better. Also standing at Soundwave's ankles were Rumble and Ravage. Ravage, seeing him sent sharp chills of fear up her spine, stared at the group of elderly like a lion watching a herd of weak gazelle. Rumble held a gun in his eyes and he was eyeing the group much the same way as the robotic cat.

Rumble held a gun on the group and said, "Alright, geezers, Margery Kayla's grandma step forward now."

Margery felt heavy as if she was being turned to stone. Rose's hand tightened around her cross, her withered wrinkled hand almost as pale as the silver of the cross. Margery knew she should run out there to save her grandmother, the only family she had left that wanted anything to do with her, but . . .she couldn't . . .the energy, the aura, the power she had felt from Soundwave was pushing against her, making her heart race with terror.

The group didn't move, eyes were on Soundwave, watching him with terror filled eyes. Rumble studied the group of frightened elderly and snapped his order again. "I said that Margery Kayla's grandma needs to step forward now!"

He fired his gun. A purple ray of heated energy zipped over their heads and an old woman wailed, "That's her, that's Rose Simmons you want!"

The panicked woman pointed at Rose and Margery knew she could scream out. You bitch! Her body shook with potential energy, but the will that would kick start it, was not there. She could not, nor would she move. She was chained by fear, and self-preservation that she had fully developed ever since her life went downhill since she entered a kitchen as an innocent little girl who prayed to God everyday for Mommy to stop being sad and came out as a wiser young woman who knew that praying could fall on deaf ears of a higher being.

Rumble sneered and moved forward. An old man nearly feel as he scrambled to get out of Rumble's path, walkers, canes, and wheelchairs clicked and creak as their owners and users spread apart to give way to the eternally youthful Rumble as he approached Soundwave's target.

Margery had to Laurie credit; she was one tough black woman. She stayed at Rose's side and leveled her dark eyes at Rumble. As the cassette approached, Rose did something that would forever change Margery's view of her grandmother for the rest of her life.

She shoved herself away from Laurie and stood shaking on own two legs. She faced Rumble and she spoke in a voice loud enough for Soundwave to hear from his great height. The voice she used was the voice that had told the three children she reared during her marriage and young Margery when she was rewarded custody of her that had had enough of their foolishness and if they didn't quit it, they were going to get their behinds scorched with a peach tree switch. "State your business with me and leave us be!"

That herald several long seconds of silence. Margery winced, recognizing the tone of voice, Powerglide watched stunned, the nursing home residents and Laurie stared at her in shock, Rumble paused in mid-step unsure, and Soundwave coldly regarded the small fleshling who near the end of her life. Rose braced herself with hands on hips and glared up at the giant ancient mechanical being with an anger and annoyance at this thing that dared to cause so much trouble to get her attention.

"Give me the location of Margery Kayla."

Margery didn't think any one could feel so much terror and keep from screaming, but somehow she managed. She backed up into Powerglide's side and he slipped an arm around her. Whether to comfort her or protect or both, she didn't know, but she could see his other hand held a vice-like grip on his gun.

"What business do you have with my granddaughter?" Rose demanded. "Any business you have with her, you have with me!"

Soundwave tilted his head, annoyed and surprised at the open defiance this small flesh creature was presenting him with. Rumble had his gun aimed at the old woman, just waiting for the internal signal from Soundwave to put an end to this fleshie's defiance to Decepticon superiority.

Soundwave repeated his demand, but with a deeper monotone. "Give me the location of Margery Kayla."

It didn't work.

"Don't you use that tone with me! You can't have my granddaughter!" Rose yelled with fury. "How dare you come here and frighten and hurt my friends and neighbors and these sick people who done nothing to you and yours and demand ME to give up my daughter's daughter? I rebuke you in the name of Jesus and the Holy Spirit, take yourself and your little minions and leave us!"

"Oh dear God in Heaven." Margery moaned so softly. She was on the knife edge of embarrassment and terror. "Dear God, please don't let her start preaching."

"Are you sure that old lady hadda stroke yesterday?" Powerglide whispered.

"Lemme shoot 'er, Soundwave!" Rumble held his gun eagerly with both hands.

Soundwave was no longer annoyed, he was rather pissed. He drew his own gun from subspace and took aim. He repeated his demand one more time. "Give met the location of Margery Kayla."

The residents and Rumble included backed away from the defying old woman. Laurie's eyes switched from Rose to Soundwave's gun, which was very large compared to human size, and backed away with guilt and fear stirring in her soul. Margery covered her mouth to keep from screaming out for her Grandma Rose.

_I got . . .to get out there . . .he wants me . . .not her . . .if I go he won't hurt her . . ._

But she wouldn't move. Her brain would send the message to her legs to push herself into a stand, but her legs wouldn't listen. They were tensed with potential action that would never come, her arms shook and her legs ached and she knew, with guilt tearing at her soul, that withdrawal had nothing to do with it.

Rose stared upwards, through the barrel of the gun. "Go ahead. Shoot me if you think it'll help you, but I'll tell you this, that gun doesn't scare me and neither do you. I ain't afraid of dying, I've lived my life. I had my girlhood, I was raised to know and love God, I got married and outlived my husband, I brought three girls into this world and watch them grow up and I raised Margery too and helped her to grow up strong young woman despite what other people may think . . ." At this Margery buried her face into her hands to silent the choking sob that threaten to erupt from her throat, "so send me to be with my Lord or put that gun away."

Soundwave's finger on the trigger twitched then fell away. He leaned forward and scooped Rose Simmons up in one hand. "Then I'll retrieve you in her place."

Margery's eyes followed Soundwave as he rose into the sky followed by Rumble and Ravage. She was frozen, and bit by painstaking bit of what she had done sank into her head. She broke.

She ripped herself free of Powerglide and ran. Her shoes beat on the pavement as she ran after the fading image in the sky. "NOOOOO! STOOOPPP! I'M HERE! TAKE ME! STOP!"

The figure did not stop, but shrunk till she couldn't make it out anymore. He was gone and so was her grandmother, the woman who had never gave up on her when she had long ago given up on herself.

She tripped. She skidded across the pavement because she hadn't been able to catch herself with her palms. Her ribs screamed with agony and she shrieked and rolled on her side where her ribs were hurt. She sobbed and choked on obscenities, cursing Soundwave, her weakness, her fear, and her ribs.

She heard metal crunching on concrete and for a fleeting second believed it to be Soundwave returning with her grandmother, but it was Powerglide following her. She heard the loud crunching and scuffing of his feet and knees on the pavement as he knelt beside her.

"Ya okay, kid?" His voice was held concern and even sympathy for her. He had lay witness to the turmoil she had suffered behind the truck.

She took a deep shuddering breath and whispered, "I let 'er down, oh God, I let 'er down, he's gonna kill 'er and I let it happened."

* * *

When Crash called his Shooter from subspace, he expected Sideswipe to say something about it, but instead the red warrior watched him take a Jolt and said nothing. Crash lowered it from his optic, feeling the fluid gush through his cranial circuits, sparking them alive.

He smiled, watching Sideswipe building his fourth or fifth building to be knocked down by either 'Godzilla' or 'King Kong'. He sat forward on the berth and said, "Mind if I help?"

Sideswipe looked up from his work and said, "Crash, why is it, for the past hour, that I've been fooling around with these cards, you haven't wanted anything to do with it, but now after you had a shot of that stuff, you wanna join in?"

Crash leaned away, stunned. "Sorry, I . . .nevermind."

Sideswipe shrugged and said, "I don't understand why you have to take a shot of something dangerous just to have a good time. I've never touched the stuff and I manage to have fun."

Crash hardened his jaw line. "Look, if you're going to lecture me about it, then get out."

Sideswipe threw up his hands and said, "Hey, I ain't the lecturing type. I'm just curious. Doesn't it bother you that that stuff could burn out your core personality circuits?"

"It could make me into a different person or burn out my personality and mental cores making me as empty as a drone." Crash finished up. "Sorta like reprogramming."

There was a long silence between them and Sideswipe began shuffling the cards into one deck. "That's your business if you want to keep washing the inside of your cranium with that stuff, but as for me, I wouldn't want to touch something that can make me stop being me. What would the universe be like without me around to liven it up?"

Crash realized he was trying to lighten the mood with a joke and he responded, "A more peaceful place."

"Slag you." Sideswipe muttered with a smile on his lip components.

Crash studied the Shoot in his hand and said, "Sideswipe, can . . .stuff like this . . . can a human be affected by something like this?"

"According to what they're taking. They got a lot more to deal with than just a personality change, but they get that too." Sideswipe replied shuffling the cards in his hand. "Anything from brain damage to infertility, even death."

A shudder quaked through Crash's frame at the thought. He seen her inject heroin into her veins many times, but he also knew that it was something she needed to block her clairvoyance. She was slagged if she did and slagged if she didn't.

"You're thinking about Margery." Sideswipe stated as he began a game of solitare.

"How do you know?"

"Well, besides from the obvious question, you get all quiet and your head lowers just a bit . . ."

"Never mind." Crash replied sourly pulling his legs up onto the berth. He sat against the wall, his feet hanging over the edge of the berth in a very relaxed way, but his mind was racing.

What was going to happen now? What should he say when Margery calls? Would he go down to Alabama soon? He still felt like he owed the Autobots for saving him, but Optimus Prime made it clear that despite his masquerade ability he wouldn't be worth it. He hated leaving with just a thank you, no matter how heartfelt it was.

"Did you know that you're a worrywart?" Sideswipe piped into his thoughts.

Crash lifted his head and raised his optic ridges. "What's that?"

"Sorry, I keep forgetting that you're still new to Earth." Sideswipe gave him a light smile. "It a human word for someone that worries too much."

"Do you blame me?" Crash asked feeling irritated. "A lot of scrap has been happening to me for the last several days."

"Hey, I'd be sparkin' too if the same scrap's been happenin' to me." Sideswipe sympathized. "But ya just gotta go with the flow. If something happens, it's gonna happen. Just do what you feel is right and to hell with everything else."

"It's not that simple." Crash shook his head. "I should stay here until I get this sorted out with Optimus Prime, but . . ."

"What do you want to do?" Sideswipe asked him, his blue optics locking with his aqua optics. "I don't mean what you think you should do, what you do you want to do?"

Crash thought for a moment and looked Sideswipe in the face and said, "I want to go back to Alabama. If Optimus Prime doesn't have a use for me, then I shouldn't stay here if I'm not needed and drink up your energon and take up your space. You're fighting a war that I am not participating in so it seems fair that I shouldn't stay. However, I want to thank Ratchet, Wheeljack, and the others who repaired me and I want to thank Optimus Prime for . . . making it happen."

"And you want to disguise yourself as Jazz and make a pass at Prowl."

"No, I don't. But nice try."

* * *

Margery sat on somewhat smooth rubble that had been part of the front wall of the nursing home. She shuddered as she sniffled through her stopped up nose and swallowed. She paid little attention to Powerglide talking with Laurie Edwards about something to do with the nursing home residents.

She rubbed her face hard enough to hurt despite the gloves. Damn, she needed another . . .shot, just to help her deal with . . .everything.

She reached into her side pocket and took out her baggie of drugs.

"Look at that damn junkie! Her grandmother got taken by a giant robot and she's gonna smoke a joint!" An old man sneered at her.

She looked up to see many disapproving or disgusted eyes of the elderly. She set her jaw and withdrew a joint from the baggie and her lighter. Let them watch if that made them happy. Let them continue to disapprove of her existence even though everything was falling apart around them.

"Ungrateful little hussy, after everything Rose did for her and she just hid and watch that thing carry off with her."

"Samuel Smith, you shut your mouth right now!" Laurie Edwards' sharp tone cut through the air. She stormed from where she had been talking with Powerglide near the entrance of the ruined building to stalk over to the loud mouth little man. "I seem to recall that none of us did anything to prevent that thing from taking Rose! And what do you expect Margery to do? Spit on it? It would have gotten her too."

Man was still not going to back down and he said the words that stabbed Margery's heart to pieces. "Then she should have let the thing take her instead of her own Grandma. I know my grandson wouldn't have let that thing take me if it wanted him. That girl is a damn coward and a selfish brat and a no good junkie. How someone as sweet as Rose end up with a hellion for a granddaughter is beyond me!"

_I'm sorry for being what I am. I didn't mean to do bad things. I'm sorry, please don't be mad at me, I'll do better, I promise, please don't saw things that hurt me . . ._

"Go fuck yourself, Sam." Margery said in a low voice.

"And she's foul mouthed too. Good Lord these days children have the most filthy mouths."

"She ought to have her mouth washed out with soap."

"What can you expect from a junkie trailer trash like her?"

"And she's a prostitute too."

"How can a good Christian woman like Rose have scum for a grandchild?"

"Hey, lay off the kid, Primus, you old humans are rough!"

* * *

"Excuse me? Repeat that order again!" Starscream's voice echoed inside the building's interior.

Megatron leveled a long look at his Second in Command and said, "You are to supervise the human labor, but monitor any humans that approach this one." He pointed at Grandma Rose Simmons who was at their feet sitting in a wheel office chair untangling piles of wire.

She looked up at the mechs as they talked about her, loose white strands of floated about her face from her long flight with Soundwave. He had surprisingly carried her very gently through the newly constructed station and set her down beside a line of humans carrying cubes filled with strangely pink liquid from a set of shields that made her think of those solar power panels that she had seen on television.

After Soundwave left her, someone had found a chair for her sit on and gave her the simple task of untangling and feeding wires and tubes into various machines. Then Soundwave returned with a large hostile looking silver robot and a loud mouth red and white one.

"Any human that approaches this human and matches Margery Kayla's description is to be brought to me and Soundwave notified."

"A Decepticon of my caliber does not baby-sit a human!" Starscream said steely.

"You'll do as you're order or else." Megatron clenched a fist in his subordinate's face.

Several humans watched the exchange nervously. If there was a fist fight between these two mechs, then chances are that somebody was gonna get hurt, and it would mostly be bystanding humans. Most likely Rose who was a bit more than a step away from the robot's large feet. She bravely watched the exchange with no fear.

"Very well, Mighty Megatron." Starscream sneered, and he turned his red gaze on Rose.

Rose swallowed a lump in her throat and didn't look away.

* * *

It was decided between Powerglide and Laurie that the residents would have to be moved in case Soundwave came back. The best place would be a theater down the street. It was large enough to give them shelter and was within walking distance.

Margery remained on her rubble seat, her joint hanging from her lips. She leaned forward, elbows on knees, hands hanging between her legs. She was tired as if she had ran for a very long time and her ribs were hurting her. Maybe Jasina cracked them instead of bruising them.

She deserved this pain. It was God punishing her for being hell to a wonderful woman like her grandmother.

"You okay, kid?" Powerglide again. He was hovering over her after seeing Laurie and the residents off

She lifted her head and said, "Ask me when this is all over, and I might have an answer for you."

"They shouldn't have said those things."

"What they said was true and no doubt you were thinking them not too long ago." Margery took a long drag on her joint. Powerglide was quiet and lifted his head to keep a optic on the sky. Maybe it was his way of not looking at her. "So what's the plan?"

"We gotta get outta the jamming zone and contact the Ark for one thing." Powerglide replied. "And without being seen or detected by any 'cons."

"What about . . ." She couldn't bring herself to say it out loud without her voice breaking.

Powerglide didn't need for her to finish to know what she was talking about. "Nothing we can do. We don't know where Soundwave took her and if we did, we ain't no where strong enough for a rescue. Without my wings, I'm useless."

"What about your internal repairs?"

"They're working, but Ratchet's gonna have to fix the wing himself." Powerglide glanced at his missing wing tip. "We can't regrow parts, ya know."

"Yeah, I know, just asking." Margery blew out smoke from her nostrils.

"It ain't your fault. If you went out there he woulda grab ya instead. Don't know why the Decepticons are after you . . . " There was long pause in waiting for her to give an answer to the question.

"I don't know either." Margery clipped quickly. "I swear, I did nothing to piss off the Decepticons, okay. You think they came down here tearing up shit lookin' for me? Shit, all of this is my fault, ain't it?"

"I don't think it is." Powerglide replied quickly as Margery stood up panicked.

"Shit, holy fuckin' shit! This is my fault too! I cause Grandma to get taken, I caused that guy to get burned up, and . . ."

"Calm down!" Powerglide waved his hands at her. "I ain't sayin' that. The Decepticons gotta be after a lot more than you to cause this much mess."

"What the fuck could they want in South Alabama? The cotton or the damn cows?"

* * *

Now that Starscream was occupied with the job of overseering the human labor and couldn't be underfoot or an annoyance, Megatron could supervise the construction of the satellite laser.

When it was completed, it would be launched into Earth's orbit and would double as a spy satellite and lethal weapon that could destroy cities if he should so choose. Though the Constructicons were efficient in their work, the launching pad and satellite won't be complete until tomorrow and would require a constant supply of energon.

This brought in the function of the Gantt hydro-electric plant. The human slaves would create energon and it would be shipped over by the Coneheads and Seekers while Soundwave and the others saw to it that the Autobots did not catch on until well after the satellite was launched.

And also as a small side mission, and hopefully a generous bonus, Megatron hoped to attain Margery Kayla and test her ability with Soundwave's expertise. If she proved herself to be a useful asset, then he would have a very useful took of attaing sensitive information on any enemy of the Decepticon enemy.

When Soundwave brought the old flesh creature, claiming that it was Margery Kayla's grandmother, and Megatron responded with ordering him to get rid of the useless sack of carbon and bring him Margery Kayla herself. However, Soundwave had claimed that he wanted to set a snare for the human. If she came looking for her creator's creator, then the remaining flesh creatures would tell her what happened and she would come looking. Meanwhile, any human found, especially any females, were to be brought to the power plant and Starscream would keep watch for a dark haired human female approaching the older human who was purposely separated from the group for that purpose.

The plan was iffy, but this elusive human may be well worth the effort of attaining her. She better be . . . her life will depend on her effectiveness as gatherer of information.

* * *

Sideswipe managed to coax Crash into going with him to the rec room to catch an episode of MASH.

"You'll like it." Sideswipe assured him. "I can't believe you haven't seen an episode yet."

"Well, if it wasn't on TV Land then we didn't see it." Crash replied as they entered the rec room. It was almost empty, everyone was mostly on duty, but there was one Autobot against the far wall that Crash hadn't seen before. He was blue and white and there was an air of elitism about him that made Crash carried himself higher in this mech's presence.

The Autobot was sitting upright and held a datapad before him. He was obviously reading and not using the rec room monitor at all. He looked up from the datapad, his eyes glanced over Sideswipe in recognition, but his optics rested on Crash. At first Crash thought it was because he was a new face, but they were focused and the Autobot's lips were pursed as if he wanted to speak, but was holding back.

Crash looked away. If this 'bot wanted to give him grief over the problems he caused, then he wanted no part of this one. He took a seat around a table nearest the monitor while Sideswipe fiddled with the monitor. It wouldn't come on.

"Slag, what the slaggin' Pit is this scrap?" Sideswipe whacked the frame, but it refused to flick on to life.

"I believe that Wheeljack may have taken the power connectors for some new inention." A cultured voice carried across the rec room.

"That slaggin' pipe suckin' screwup!" Sideswipe growled as he headed out of the room. "Always coming around takin' scrap and breakin' stuff and not tellin' mechs about it."

He was do doubt going to retrieve the parts for the monitor with Crash watching him leave. He sat still with his fingers tapping the tabletop unconsciously. He froze when he heard the mech behind him stand and the approaching footsteps coming closer.

Surely, he was leaving the rec room and was walking past Crash for the exit. Wrong.

"May I ask you something?" The blue and white Autobot said as he stood over Crash with the datapad in hand.

Crash looked up hoping that his nervousness didn't show on his faceplate. "Okay."

"Did you get your field generator from Duskdawn too?"

Crash felt as if the world had dropped from beneath him. His mouth dropped open and his optics stayed on the Autobot's face. He thought he would be the only one on this planet who knew of that certain name.

The Autobot tilted his head and said, "I'll take that as a yes. I got mine from him too."

Crash could hear a distance hum of shock in his audios. Was he hearing this Autobot correctly?

"May I sit down?"

"Uh . . .yesssss . . . " Crash trailed off still stunned.

The Autobot took a seat. Crash watched him move and couldn't help, but feel inferior to this mech. He did everything with precision and grace. There was no movement wasted or performed with half effort. He pulled the chair out from the table with just enough space for him to take a seat and not have to scoot forward to be closer to the table. He simply and carefully laid the datapad face down in front of him and kept his blue optics on Crash the whole time.

This Autobot definitely came from higher levels of Cybertronian society. What in Primus's name was he doing out here on a remote and somewhat primitive planet in a military unit in a constant battle with Decepticons? This guy seemed more suited for holding gatherings in refined towers of silver steel that Duskdawn had liked to attend so much.

"My name is Mirage."

"I guess you already know me by now. Crash."

"So did you acquire your generator from him?" Mirage inquired, his head tilted in curiosity.

No sense in denying it. "Yes."

"Astounding. Duskdawn was a genius in generators. I remember seeing him at balls and parties. Even art galleries. Many people had sent him requests for specialized parts, but sadly, he'd only installed them into a selected few. I even sent him my own schematics in hopes that he would create a special part for me, but when he didn't respond in almost two Earth years, I had given up believing that my schematics held no interest for him. However, he suddenly called me one morning and requested a time that I would be able to come in for installation. I was so stunned; I had forgotten all about until then. That's how I got my invisible generator, but I must have received it before yours, because your masquerade generator is so much more advanced than mine."

The way this mech spoke, made Crash feel as if this character wanted to drown himself in memories of the days before the war. It was light and happy and it looked uncharacteristic on his serious faceplate and low baritone voice.

Crash looked at his hands which were palm flat on the table before him. "That sounds like him. He . . . he doesn't build parts for mechs. He builds the parts first and finds mechs that are compatible for his parts. When he received your request and schematics, he didn't look at them. He just store them away in his filing system until he built a certain part and then went hunting for someone that he could install it into. Yours was just luck of the draw."

Mirage stared at him intrigued and confused. "You speak of him as if you knew him personally?"

Crash shut his optics offline and then flash them online. A human would have called it blinking back tears. He took a long take of air through his intakes and released it in a shuddering moan.

Mirage watched him curiously, his optics never leaving his face.

Crash trembled, as a pain washed over his spark. "Yeah, I knew him. Not a lot of people knew this, it . . . he didn't want it publicly known . . . I . . . It hurts just to . . . remember. I . . ." Crash was silent for a long moment as he withstood the ache in his entire being. "We were bondmates."

* * *

DUM DUM DUM! 


	16. Capture

Sitting here watching Sin City while I'm posting this chapter. Beautiful movie. Romance, horror, action, mystery, drama,and sex all wrapped into one movie.

* * *

"You were . . . Duskdawn's bondmate?" The respond was, as predicted, stunned and laced with suspicion.

"Look, I understand why you wouldn't believe me. I know Duskdawn didn't seem the type to want to bond with anybody, but he did . . . I said too much already, I . . . don't want to talk about it anymore."

"I see." Mirage said slowly. His blue optics remained on Crash, and then he said slowly, "I had my generator checked out by Ratchet after I heard about your device. It checked out cleaned so obviously my generator isn't worth arming, but yours was."

Crash leaned away from the table and watched the door, hoping very much that Sideswipe would come back soon. "Might be because mine is so advanced."

"Or maybe it's because of who you were to him."

"Mirage, I don't mean to be a scrapper, but it's none of your business and I already told ya I don't wanna talk about it." Crash planted his hands firmly on the tabletop and pushed himself up. "What do you want from me?"

"I'm just curious to know how a talented mech of high class and rich upbringing could become bonded to . . . you." Mirage was wise not to express his full thoughts.

Crash temper flared. He activated his masquerade and the imager swirled to life. Instead of a brown and greet transformer, standing near the table was a tall transformer that Mirage had seen several times during his life as being one of Iacons upperclassmechs.

He was tall, but not built wide as Optimus Prime or Megatron. His upper body was almost triangular with a slim waist, but there was strength in his frame the burned off him like heat from fire. His paintjob consisted of dark hues of purple and blue rising upward from his legs and gradually brightening to red and orange at his chest and shoulders, colors mostly seen during sunrise and sunset. His optics were a shade of violet so dark it was almost black and they shone glaring at the world in general.

Like a rose had thorns, this mech had razors. His shin guards and arm guards swept up into sharp shivs and his shoulders peaked out into sharp points. His fingers ended with sharp pointy claws. Even his helmet swept downward into curves of blades. But what were really fearsome were his wings which swept downward, which was very uncommon style for fliers and what else was uncommon was that they were huge blades too.

Mirage had heard rumors about Duskdawn's alt-mode. How his artist creator had not only built him as a thing of beauty, but also as a weapon. He could use his speed and slice easily through fellow aircrafts wings bringing them down. Though he would never believed someone with Duskdawn's standard would willingly involved himself in the war . . . but then looking at him again after so many years of fighting and involving himself in violence . . . Mirage found himself not to sure anymore as he gazed at the blades.

Then the image spoke in a smooth silky voice. "I don't know why I would choose to bond myself to a common dock worker. Maybe I did it out of something called love, maybe I'm able to look through social classes and appreciate Crash for who he is, not what he is."

Mirage recovered quickly from the shock and said blandly, "That was very out of character of you, Duskdawn."

The image's superior air, which usually emanated from the mech, dropped and the frame sagged dejectedly. The voice spoke with Crash's vocaliser, "I know. He wouldn't talk like this."

The image swept aside into a multitude of pixels and colors and Crash stood taking on the same dejected pose. There was a long moment of uncomfortable silence and Mirage ended it with, "That's quite impressive. My field generator is no where near that advance. It only shifts and reflects the light around me to make me invisible."

"It was Duskdawn's pride and joy." Crash took back his seat no longer feeling angry. "By the time I left Cybertron, he hadn't created anything to surpass it."

"Finally, got the connectors!" Sideswipe announced as he entered the rec room waving connecting cables in hand.

Mirage looked over his shoulder and eyed the cables. "Did Wheeljack just give them back?"

"No, but his invention did."

* * *

As Margery predicted, Powerglide wasn't happy about her during her small share of looting, but she gave him a very good reason.

"Look, we have a long walk ahead of us and I ain't going anywhere until I have more than three bullets in my gun. If you wanna bitch about stealing, I'll leave a fucking IOU on the desk."

Powerglide reluctantly broke the front window of the gun store and waited outside while she took a look around. It was mostly untouched and nothing seemed to be out of place. Maybe the owner didn't get a chance to open it before the Decepticons attacked. She found a Hi Power Mark III Browning which she suppose was powerful enough for a Decepticon attacked . . . at least for Ravage. Not Soundwave.

She loaded it with a magazine and managed put a magazine into each pocket and three in her inner jacket pocket. Then she went into the back room and saw a locked cabinet right beside a bottle of whiskey. She stared at the cupboard and determined that it never hurt to take a look.

It took a few tries kicking the lock, but she managed to break the already loosed lock and open the cabinet. She stared at the contents amazed. Inside were two grenades, a jumbo black dildo, a box cutter, and black leather gloves. She gathered up the grenades, box cutter, and gloves, but left the dildo.

She took out a magazine to make room for the grenades. She was very certain that these would be more effective than the Browning. The box cutter held a small clip so she clipped it to the inside of her jacket sleeve and her long sleeve shirt would keep it from giving her visions. She replaced her wool gloves for the leather gloves. They would give her a better grip and she still wore the latex gloves so they shouldn't give her visions either.

She felt better. She was as well equipped as she was going to get to handle Decepticons, except for Ravage. She almost hoped that she would run into the robot cat. She would shove a grenade so far down his snarling throat. . .

She exited out the store, stepping carefully over the broken glass, shattered by a single punch from Powerglide. The mini-plane was still outside, gun out, and optics watching the skies.

"Got whatcha needed?"

"Yep." She held up the Browning, but decided that he didn't need to know about the grenades or the box cutter.

Powerglide eyed the weapon and said, "Dat ain't gonna do slag to the Decepticons."

She shrugged and slid the gun into the belt holster she also added to her weaponry. "What's next?"

"You're gonna lissen to me now?"

She shrugged. "Why not? I fucked us over. You were right and I was wrong. You're the boss now, just don't get us killed."

Powerglide regarded her with almost suspicion and said, "We go back and make sure the kids are safe. Then we head west to the next town, I think it's called Andalusia and see if the jamming zone ends there. If it doesn't, then we keep going till it does."

"We goin' by foot?" She wasn't looking forward to footing it underneath the sun.

"Can you drive a truck?"

"Yeah, I guess I can figure it out, but I ain't got a license."

"I think I can ride in the back of one if you drive."

"Then we go back to the nursing home and get the red truck we hid behind?"

"That's it."

* * *

Powerglide was the one who hot wired the truck because despite her devious past, she had never stolen a vehicle before. Powerglide climbed into the back while she sat in the front. The truck rocked and she couldn't help but notice that it tilted backward and she had to almost lean forward to see the road.

Damn, they must have looked a sight: her in her gothic wear driving a beat up red truck with Powerglide sitting in the back. The truck was half full with gas and they should easily find s gas station to refuel if needed. When they got to the store they left the kids, they were gone.

"Kids! Hey! Kids!" Powerglide even got off the truck and bumped his head on the window frame when he knelt and stuck his upper body inside to search. "Margery, go in and look for 'em."

"They ain't there." She bent down and picked up a pack of cigarettes which somehow got outside the store. She flecked some dust off them and opened the pack. She pulled out a smoke and lit up while Powerglide kept looking. "You're wasting time. The kids prolly bailed on us after we left."

Powerglide removed himself from the building and muttered several curses in Cybertronian. "We gotta go after 'em."

Margery shook her head and took a short drag. "No, they'll be fine. Those kids got a knack for taking care of themselves. I'd be more worried about any Decepticon that crossed their path."

Powerglide saw her cigarette. "Ya gonna add that to poison you put in your body?"

She shrugged. "I can smoke and drive. Want me to smoke a joint and drive?"

"How about ya not smoke anything at all?"

"Fuck you."

* * *

An hour later found them heading west toward Andalusia. They didn't see anybody on the side of the road, but they did see signs of Decepticon activity. Cars were crashed into poles, on their sides, or still on fire attested to that. There were even a few bodies around the crashes or charred corpses from laser blasts.

"See anything?" She said with a cigarette hanging from her lips. It bobbed as she spoke flecking ashes onto her wrist making her flinch.

"No." Powerglide muttered. "And watch those potholes! You trying to bounce me out?"

"That's right, 'glide, I gonna hit every fuckin' hole and bounce you the hell outta truck so I don't have a look out for any godforsaken Decepticons."

"Smart mouth," came the muttered response.

"Asshole." She whispered.

"How much gas we got?"

She glanced at the gas gauge. "We're going to need some."

"Keep goin'. We'll see a gas station soon."

"Alrighty, boss." She kept a steady eye on the gas gauge and the other on the road.

The road was like any other in Alabama. It was long with trees and grass on either side and boring. The only thing keeping Margery from going into driver's trance was the cigarette between her lips. She tried turning on the radio, but it would only hiss static. Whatever Soundwave did, he did it well and thoroughly.

Nearly ten minutes later, just after the small image of a gas bump turned red near the gas gauge nearing empty, they saw a gas station. Margery pulled in and wondered if someone would be in or would they have to pay at all. She sure as hell didn't have any money.

When she parked the truck, Powerglide stepped out of the back making the truck rock on its axles. Margery jostled in the driver's seat, nearly smacking her head on the steering wheel. She muttered something about big assed Autobots as she opened the door and slid out.

The gas station was small and looked old. It held two single gas pumps and on the main building's windows were signs for trucks and cars for sell and missing pets. The ground was covered with white rocks and dirt instead of pavement and their feet kicked up dust as they stepped on it. It looked like a Maw and Paw store to her.

Powerglide was looking through the glass doors. He looked like a kid looking inside a playhouse. "I don't think anybody is in."

"I'm getting gas anyway. Leave 'em an IOU." Margery pulled on the gas tab on the floorboard and moved to unscrew the gas cork. "That's something I hadn't thought about. What about you? Don't you gotta refuel?"

"I've been conserving whenever I can, but I'm gonna hafta refuel soon." Powerglide stepped away from the glass doors and came over to the gas pumps. "I might be able to refuel from just gas."

Margery raised her eyebrows at him as she unhooked the gas nozzle from the pump. "I thought you could only take energon?"

"Energon's better, but I can use gas. It just won't be as effective, but it'll keep me outta stasis lock."

"Have you tried your radio yet?" She pulled the nozzle handle and gas flowed into the thirsty truck.

"I've been tryin' it. Nothing." Powerglide eyed the second gas pump and carefully unhooked the nozzle. It took him a few tries, it being made for smaller hands, but he managed to kneel on the other side of the pump and hold the nozzle to his mouth or better yet facemask. Margery leaned against the truck amazed as she watched him pull the handle with a finger and the gas pour into . . . something. She had expected the mask to open to reveal a mouth or a hole, but somehow the fuel was being absorbed.

Powerglide ran the price meter up to 99 dollars by the time he drank his feel and put the nozzle back on the gas pump. By the time, Margery had filled the truck and was sitting in the driver's seat with the door open watching Powerglide refuel.

"Ah, that almost hits the spot." Powerglide got to his feet and wiped his facemask with the back of his hand. "That should keep me going for a while longer if I'm careful."

"I'm starved." Margery muttered thinking about the bags of hamburgers she and the kids had eaten long ago on the trip cross country. "What time is it?"

"It's almost 4:00." Powerglide glanced at the sky. "They should be startin' to worry about us. When they try to contact me, they'll see the signal is jammed and investigate."

"Then shouldn't we stay low somewhere and wait?"

"No, we keep movin'. It'll make it harder for Decepticons to detect us and also there's no way am I lettin' any pals of mine walk blindly into a Decepticon ambush. If we can warn them, then they'll send out the forces and take care of this mess."

She nodded her head in agreement. "That makes sense. Lemme just grab somethin' to eat. I gotta refuel too."

"Be qui . . . LOOK OUT!"

Margery was bodily snatched out of the truck by Powerglide and he spun them away from it toward the ground. She caught a glimpse of a purple flash and then explosion. She hit the rocks hard making her yelp with shock and pain as the small rocks poked her back through her shirt and jacket.

By the time she came to her senses, she would later believe that she blacked out for a few minutes, she saw Powerglide hovering over her and behind him was what remained of the fully fueled truck and gas pumps burning. They were close enough for her to feel the heat almost burning her.

She scrambled away to get to her feet. Her shoes kicked up clouds of dirt and dust. Powerglide rose to his feet, gun in hand, and turned to face their attackers. "Oh slag, not them."

Up in the sky was not a bird, and it sure as hell wasn't Superman, though he would have been welcomed at this time, it was three jets flying toward them. Margery watched with wide eyes as they transformed into three robots with cone shaped heads and they all had wide grins on their faces.

"What do we have here? An Autobot with a broken wing?"

"Margery, get goin'. I'll follow you if I can." Powerglide hissed at her. She didn't need to be told twice. She hauled ass toward the trees without looking back.

However, her getaway didn't go unnoticed by the Decepticons above.

"Thrust, get the human. We'll deal with Powerglide."

Thrust smiled as he went forward. He liked getting easy job such as this. He easily dodged Powerglide's shots and soared forward over the tree tops.

* * *

"Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit."

Margery skipped over roots, scooted down steeps, leapt over wholes or any indentions into the ground. She needed to put as much space between her and the Decepticons as much as possible. She worried for Powerglide. She hoped he would make it out okay, but she sure as hell wasn't going back for the unlucky bastard.

She skittered off the side when a violet blast hit a tree three feet from her right. She rebounded off a tree and kept going onward with increased effort.

_Shit, one's after me. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Go the fuck away, go blow up Powerglide, go blow up anything else but me, okay!_

A roar ripped over and leaves and broken branches showed over her, halting her in her running. She squealed with panic as two burgundy and black legs broken through the canopy and was followed by a metallic torso and cone shaped head.

Then her vision was a large gray hand growing bigger and bigger.

"NOOO!" She shrieked and backpedaled. Her back hit the tree behind her hard enough to knock the air from her lungs. Gasping for air, she whipped around the tree keeping it between her and Thrust hand.

"C'mere, human." Thrust ordered reaching around the tree.

"Fuck!" She threw herself away from the hand and turned to flee in the opposite direction.

The earth tore as roots were ripped from the deep soil at her feet. Her foot caught an uplifting root and she was sprawled across the soil. Her ribs shot her full of agony when she landed on them. They had seemed to have gotten better during the long ride when she was inactive, not it was like they had been injured all over again.

Thick fingers curled around her torso and she was so crippled with pain that she was unable to do anything about it. She was lifted up into his palm and his fingers closed around her making her squawk as pressure was applied to her ribs.

Thrust threw aside the tree he had uprooted in annoyance at the human. He held her up to his face to get a better look at her. She was ugly like most humans with her color scheme being simply black and white, but she was an improvement from the annoying human Autobot ally who would be screaming about how the Autobots were going to stop the Decepticons and how their plans will never work and . . .

BANG!

Thrust optics flicked off and then back on in a reminiscent of a blink. His left cheek had a tiny dent where a bullet had failed to pierce his faceplate and had ricocheted off. The human in his hand held a small projectile weapon with both hands and was taking aim for a second shot.

The little meat bag had shot him and it was planning on doing it again.

He flecked his wrist and her aim went wild into the trees. "Gimme that weapon, human!"

"Go fuck yourself!" Margery screamed and took a shot at his face again. If there anything she could hope to depend on that she could penetrate his face at least.

He used his other hand to take the weapon, which was harder than he would have thought. The human jerked the gun around away from his questing fingers before she shoved it into her outer clothing and crossed her arms over it. She was determined to hold on to it.

He attempted to pry her arms away to get it, but she leaned forward against his fingers around her. He gave up. It wasn't like the human could actually harm him with a primitive weapon and likely Rumble or Frenzy will have better success at taking it. He wasn't in the mood to wrestle with a human over it.

He transformed and Margery thought she was falling when she landed in his cockpit. A glass casing dropped over her and she felt the Decepticon roar to life below her. She screamed wordlessly as the jet rolled a few feet over the ground and then ascended tearing through the canopy of the forest.

"I got the human." He radioed to his fellow Coneheads.

"We got Powerglide." Dirge replied. "Megatron wants him brought to the launch pad for questioning. You take the human to the power plant."

"Affirmative."

Margery looked through the glass of the window and saw the ground drop further away as Thrust ascended. She considered kicking at the glass, but then the thought falling to hit the ground at a high speed was sure to hurt. She still had her gun, for what little good it did for her, but it still felt good to have it. It turned out a lot better than it could have been.

She ran through her head her options. She wasn't going to leave this jet until it landed and that was a fact. Her ribs were hurting her so she leaned back against the seat, her hand tenderly clutching her ribs. She knew something that would help the pain and calm her nerves. Fuck, it would even help her not be afraid anymore.

She reached into her inner pocket and Thrust's voice came over with a threat. "You go for that weapon and I will eject you."

"How the fuck are you able to see me?" She withdrew her baggie of drugs and held it up for him to see it, where ever he was seeing it from. She lowered to her lap and went to work to get to oblivion.

"What are you doing?"

She rolled up a sleeve. "Wait and see."

She tied the rubber band above her elbow and as her blood vein swelled she drew a large dose of heroin into her syringe while holding the needle cover between her lips. She carefully pushed the needle into her vein.

"Disgusting!" came the overhead comment.

She leaned her head back and sucked on the syringe cover as the euphoria glided across her skin. She grinned and happily watched the clouds wash against the Decepticon jet's wings. She lazily untied the rubber hand and covered the syringe before slipping them both back into the plastic baggie. She got out a joint and a lighter.

She lit up and Thrust exploded. "Put that out! Don't do that in here!"

She took a slow drag and felt the exhilaration building inside her head. She blew out the smoke slowly as she spoke. "Don't want it in here, eject me. Send me flyin', honey."

Thrust was tempted to do so, but he remembered strict orders from Soundwave that any female human with a black and white color scheme were to be turned into Starscream at the plant. If he destroyed this human no doubt Dirge and Ramjet would turn him in and he would have to be under the not so tender mercies of Soundwave's wrath if this was the human he was so determine to attain. And if this human was the one he wanted and Thrust was the one to deliver her, then he would no doubt he rewarded.

He accelerated and propelled himself forward to get to the plant and deliver the human sooner. Margery rested her feet on the consoles and took a long drag on her joint, feeling the cockpit with smoke.

* * *

The Insecticons were bored. They were eating, but they were still bored. They liked the large wooded areas of Alabama and thought that this would make a good place for a hive once they ate out the various areas in Canada. There was another reason why they liked Alabama.

They found out about the Boil Weevil Monument in Enterprise.

They knew that the monument was built in dedication to the Boil Weevil, but what they didn't understand, or decided not to understand, was that it was not built in Bombshell's honor.

Not that it mattered one way or another. Stealing the monument was something to do and it would no doubt slag off Megatron to boot. So off they flew eastward toward Enterprise . . .

* * *

"I may not be able to break your little 'spirits', but I can break your limbs so just remember the demonstration."

Starscream motioned to the limbless corpse at his feet. The corpse had once been a rather foolish and stupid little flesh creature who had the audacity to throw a tool at Starscream. The Air Commander ordered Skywarp to dismember the idiotic human and Seeker had reluctantly did so. The human's blood had spurted over his hands and arms, even onto his chest plate. When he dropped the torso, more circulation fluid splattered his feet. It was a job to wash the fluid off with a human hose.

After the demonstration, the humans renewed their efforts double time and stiff jerky movements. His charge remained in her chair untangling wires, but her skin had taken on a paler color. He stepped over to closer to her and regarded her with arms crossed over his chest plate.

"Did you like the demonstration, human?"

She tilted her head upward to face him, her wrinkly hands clutching the wires in a white knuckled grip. "No."

He feigned surprised and gave her a mock of pain. "But the others seem to have appreciation for it."

Rose's hands shook and she whispered, "You are a cruel sadistic monster."

Starscream smirked at her and heard a familiar sound of an arriving jet. He left the human female and went outside the Decepticon size opening they created when they took over the planet.

Thrust was landing along the grass beside the river the Gantt power plant utilizes. As Starscream approached, the cockpit slide open and smoke billowed out in one thick cloud. His first thought was that the imbecile had caught on fire, and then as he got closer and smoke cleared he could make out a human inside giggling.

"God, I didn't know it was so fucking thick in here!" She laughed as her feet beat on the console of Thrust's alt-mode.

"Get her outta my cockpit!"

Starscream reached in and easily lifted the human out of the Decepticon. She squealed happily as she was carried up as if she was on one of those fast moving rides that humans seem to like so much. She held onto his blue fingers and giggled and somehow managed to hold a lit stick in her mouth.

She smelled strange and Starscream's olfactory listed it as a narcotic that was very popular with humans. He turned off his olfactory receptors in disgust and held the human away from him.

Thrust transformed and the smoke wafted away from his cockpit and the smell clung to him still. Starscream didn't think the water hose was going to help Thrust as it did for Skywarp.


	17. I'm Sorry

A lot of this I wrote while listening to Hands by Jewel and Everybody's Free (to Feel Good) by Rozalla.

30 reviews and over 800 hits. I must be doing SOMETHING right with this fic.

Most of this is from human perspespective, but plenty of Decepticons. Some gore in this chapter because Starscream is a sadistic bastard.

* * *

The human would not stop giggling and swing her legs, and this was a very unusual thing to Starscream. Whenever he picked up a human there was screaming weeping, and disgustingly ejecting from the human's body. Never this mirth or amusement and it was irritating him.

"Shut up you little germ." He growled at her, tightening his hold on her.

The human sucked on her lighted stick and surprisingly exhausted expelled from her nostrils. Her pale blue optics were glazed over and the black doted sensor points were large. She looked at him, but it was as if she wasn't really seeing him for what he was. Was the human a partial drone? If so, he wasn't going to waste his precious time on it.

He handed her out to Thrust and said, "Take her in and put her to work. If she keeps this noise up, destroy her."

Thrust reluctantly accepted the human back into his grasp. The human offered no protest in the exchange. Thrust carried her inside the plant and toward where energy bonds were produced for indoctrinated slaves.

"MARGERY?"

"Hey, Grandma!"

Starscream twisted around and followed Thrust inside with interest. Thrust had the human on the ground and was holding onto her by her wrists with a thumb and forefinger while his other hand was putting on the bonds. The human was leaning backwards from his fingers held up only by her ensnared hands and smiled lazily at Starscream's charge.

"Hey! Grandma! When did you get a job here?" The human, Margery, asked the old woman.

The old human was staring at the younger human with an expression of astonishment. "Margery, how . . . did you . . . what's wrong with you?"

Labor had halted as every human looked over their shoulder or tools to watch the spectacle the black and white human was putting on. Even Skywarp was looking around the corner to hear where the giggling was coming from. She was leaning backward so far she was nearly sitting on the floor like some child and that goofy grinned backed up the illusion.

So THIS was the human that had downloaded information directly from Soundwave's programs? Starscream's lip components turned up into a wicked grin. He couldn't wait until Megatron got a look at this little idiot of a flesh creature. How fitting it would be for Starscream to retrieve the human that Soundwave wasn't able to capture himself and solidify his position as a more superior Decepticon than the monotone speaking THIRD in command.

"Starscream to Megatron." He radioed quietly.

"This better be good, Starscream." Obviously not all is going as it should over at the launching pad.

"I believe I have the human Soundwave hasn't had the competence to retrieve."

"Excellent, Starscream. Keep her there until Soundwave arrives. He will bring her to me."

Starscream frowned. "I can deliver the human to you . . ."

"No, I wouldn't trust you with a drone much less a possibly valuable human. You will wait for Soundwave and until he gets there that human is your new charge. Anything happens to her, it will happen to you."

With that, Megatron signed off and Starscream was left feeling very much deprived of his soul right of recognition. He glanced at the new charge and saw that Thrust had finally managed to place the energy bonds on her wrists and had released her. She was making her way over to the old human. She even walked through the cooling pool of blood from the forgotten limbless corpse.

Rose dropped the wires and reached out to take Margery's gloved hands into hers. Their purple energy bonds draped Rose's skirt as Margery knelt in front of her grandmother. Rose touched Margery's face and said, "Honey, what do these robots want with you?"

"I don't know." Margery said with annoyance as if Rose had asked her what time it was. "Maybe they want what I got. Sex and drugs?"

"Margery, are you . . . _under the influence?"_

"If ya talkin' about high, the fuck yeah!"

Rose gaped at her granddaughter. She had heard the rumors and the stories, but not since Margery's short high school years has she seen Margery like this. Margery was stoned and loving it.

"Disgusting."

Margery craned her head around to see the source of the bitter voice. Sure enough, the entire Conner clan was to the far side pushing tools in carts toward another group of humans and wouldn't you know it, Sheriff Gregs was there leveling angry piggy eyes at her.

Dennis's temple had a small line of blood as if he had earlier suffered a minor head injury and his clothes soiled with dirt and labor. Jenny's graying curly auburn hair was tangled and hung around her face in thick strands. Her brother, Sheriff Gregs, didn't look any better. He was favoring his left leg and Margery could see that his left shoe and sock were off and the ankle was swollen. Did the pig trip and break his leg? She hoped he would never use it the same way again.

"What's disgusting, Jenny, honey? They want my pussy and not yours?" Margery stood and turned to face the woman. "I sure as hell know your husband don't want it."

The citizens of south Alabama froze in place. Starscream's demonstration went forgotten as every eye went to the drama that was no doubt going to explode. A real live explosive Days of Our Lives event right there in front of slave and Decepticon alike. The Decepticons, being a violent and hostile race, could detect the emotional hostility floating between the small family group and the loan black and white female.

Starscream leaned against the opening frame of the plant and watched with interest. If this was possible entertainment for an otherwise boring assignment, then why should he have any intentions of putting to a stop to the actions below?

Dennis Conner stared shocked at Margery and guilt could be seen reflected in his thick glasses. Jenny Conner's face turned bright red as the truth that everyone in the plant knew of, except the Decepticons, was thrown brutally into the light. Sheriff Gregs looked as if he would have given anything for there to be a gun in his hand instead of a shovel.

Margery looked around at the shocked and fascinated faces. "C'mon, we all know it's true. It ain't been said to my face, but I can still hear ya whisperin' behind mah back, ya know! Want me to say, I'll say it. I have sucked off Dennis Conner four times for twenty bucks each time."

Starscream didn't totally understand what she was talking about, but he garnered that she had been consorting with the other female's mate and obviously been paid to do so. These humans were simply strange and crazy.

"Margery, stop it." Rose begged. "Please, don't say anything else you are going to regret saying later when you're sober."

Margery unfortunately wouldn't heed Rose's warning. "Hey, Dennis, ya wanna know somethin'? Your son made me the same offer, ya know? Offered me thirty bucks just to suck on his baby boner. Did ya know that while ya think he's in school he's really hangin' out at Michaels' crib? Smokin' that weed just like me, whattaya think of that, Dennis?"

Dennis's face was white leaving his nose looking very pink and swollen. His wife was gaping at Margery, but her face was red with consuming rage.

"Stop lyin' you goddamn slut." Sheriff Gregs snarled.

"What? Me lie? Okay, how about this lie? The one you no doubt been tellin' everyone. How about how you've been accepting bribes from ole Michaels for the last year?"

The color from Gregs's face bled away in horror. Jenny turned her head and stared at her brother shocked. Dennis shifted away like the coward he was since the attention was no longer on him.

Margery grinned wickedly knowing that she had this sheriff by the balls and she wasn't letting go. "For the last year, you've been givin' Michaels heads up whenever his place is being staked so he knows not to do business or let it look like he's doin' business. What? You didn't think I didn't know? I sucked him off too, ya know. I think he was tryin' to impress me by tellin' me that, he's a sweet heart, got a nice ass, ya know. Dick ain't bad neither."

Starscream shifted his weight on his feet and stared at the little strange female emotionally destroying the family unit. He wasn't sure he understood her correctly, but the things she was speaking of must be taboo from the way the other humans were reacting. He was able to understand that this female was consorting not just with one male, but three males, one being the fat male's creation. It brought up questions to the old part of his scientist curiosity. He had thought that in human pairing it was one male and one female, not one female and several males. If he was bored one day, he just may look into this

Then Margery remembered something. She turned around to look at the blood draining from the corpse and frowned. "Jesus, Michaels . . . is that you?"

* * *

Powerglide wasn't high, he was in pain.

He lay on his side surrounded by the security barrier generated by a small powered device. If he got too close to the walls, they sent high currents of pain into him. It had taken a few tries to dissuade him from trying to break free. He was very glad that he had taken the chance the refuel the best he could from gas pump.

He could see the Constucticons building something. He wasn't very skilled in architecture, but he was pretty sure that it some sort of satellite. And a launching pad . . . was they planning on launching that satellite and what for? For planetary surveillance?

Sound of crunching dry grass and soil touched his audios and he feigned being offline. If his optics were online and he was facing the other way, he would have seen Megatron with a pleased look on his face with Astrotrain and Blitzwing standing on either side of him.

"Turn off the barrier."

Powerglide could hear the generator's hum slowly fade away and could sense the force field barrier dropping away.

"Bring me a piece of his wing."

He stopped faking and rolled onto his feet. If Powerglide was in top condition, then he would have easily outmaneuvered Astrotrain and Blitzwing and taken to the air, however, he wasn't. He had sustained too many injuries for his internal repairs to cover in so short a time, not to mention his wing would need Ratchet's attention if he ever got to see the medic again.

He was easily caught and pinned to the ground by Astrotrain. The bigger robot had only to hold him down with both hands while the mini-bot's feet dug uselessly into the dirt to gain him leeway to escape. Blitzwing grabbed the end of his uninjured wing and started twisting.

"Slaggin' scrap heaps of scrag!" Powerglide wailed as his pain receptors picked up agonizing ripping lancing down his wing and into his back. He pried at Astrotrain's hands, his white fingers plucking at the larger hands.

Then snap, the wing tip came off in Blitzwing's hand. Powerglide vocaliser screeched as pain and shock collided in his processor. He writhed even after Astrotrain released him. He managed to collect himself to hear . . .

"Put this into storage until Soundwave arrives with the human. Also, keep trying to get in contact with the Insecticons. They haven't reported in over a mega-cycle."

Human? Was he talking about Margery? Know the luck they've been having, yes. But what in Primus's name did they want with Margery? If it was a hostage they wanted, they had a power plant full of humans to choose from. Why did they specifically want Margery? She wasn't anything special. She wasn't a scientist like Dr. Archeville, a political leader like Sean Berger, nor did Powerglide think she held information like Astoria did. She was just a red neck, trailer trashing, pot smoking, heroin addicted, chain smoking, dirty mouth, bitchy, cheap prostitute.

So what the Pit do the Decepticons want with her?

* * *

Margery was exhausted. The drugs in her system were wounding down inside her body and it was making her sleepy. She was leaning against Rose's lap and was almost dozing off while the old woman stroked her hair from her face. Her fingers gently laced the dark tresses into a braid.

Margery's revelation knocked all the fight out of Jenny and Gregs as it did for Margery when she realized that the dead man on the floor was Michaels. She had spent a good five minutes staring at the glazed blue eyes and dark hair. Even though, she was high, the sight of him brought her down to Earth somewhat.

She remembered how she had fantasized about him and fulfilling those fantasies sucking him off for a discount on drugs. Shit, those times were for herself just as much as it was for the drugs. Thought she never let Michaels know that or he would have upped the price.

She had always wondered if maybe it could have gone farther if she never had this clairvoyance, that someone's touch wouldn't hurt her, would she and Michaels could have been something? She would always wonder and never know.

Starscream saw that the show was over and ordered the humans back to work or there would be a demonstration part 2. He allowed the black and white human to stay with the old one being that it would be difficult for her to escape with the elder in tow. He occasionally checked on them. The last thing he wanted was to be shown as incompetent as Soundwave and loose the human.

Rose removed a clip from her tousled hair and used it to tie back her braid. She murmured a prayer to God. She asked God to look after Margery in this dangerous time and to protect her and give her strength to endure any hardship these alien robots will place on her. She begged God to deliver Margery to safety and bring her home.

No wonder Margery liked the drugs. They numb her to the visions. How else would Rose have the pleasure of braiding her grandchild's hair without jerking away from her as if her hands were cruel knives instead the touch of a loving relative?

"I always tried to do what I believed was best for you, honey." Rose whispered to Margery. "I'm so sorry about your Momma and Daddy, I should have done more for your mother. I should have been wiser, should have said the right things to help their marriage. Then I should have seen it coming before it happened when your mother took her own life and you . . . I'll never forgive myself, that you had to walk in on that. It should have been me to find her like that, not you, you didn't deserve that, honey, and I am still angry with your mother for letting that happen."

Rose blinked and a tear escaped from her eye. It slipped down her cheek and she wiped it away. "I . . . I didn't know what was happening to you when your visions started. I am so sorry I didn't understand what was happening to you. The times I whipped you, thinking you were making things up or acting out, I wish someone would whip me. I never should have taken you out of that institute, if anyplace on this world that would have helped you, saved you, it was that place. But you were so miserable and you would call me every night crying, begging me to take you out of that place. I already felt guilty about the way I treated you . . . I wanted to make it up to you, so I took you out of that place . . . by the time I realized you were better off there, it was took late, you were eighteen and I had no legal right over you. You wouldn't go back."

"I should die."

Rose stared at Margery whom she had believed to be asleep. "Margie, honey, what are you saying?"

Margery lifted her head from Rose's lap and said, "Grandma, I may be high, but I'm not stupid. I've been nothing but a pain since you got me."

"Margery, what did you mean you should die?" Rose took short breaths. "You're not going to try . . . again?"

Margery sat back on her ass and crossed her legs. Her energy bonds draped on her lap as she set her hands on her knees. "I've thought about it . . . at least until Crash came along."

"Crash?"

Margery swallowed and said, "Grandma, I really was with a transformer that day beside the pasture. He's probably the best friend I ever had in a very long time."

Rose stared down at Margery with a face of stone. "Was he the friend you went to Oregon for?"

"Yeah, but he was really hurt and was having surgery or serious repairs, whatever they might call it. Grandma, I got to spend the night inside the Ark, I got to see the Autobots and talk with Optimus Prime." She decided to leave out that she almost told Optimus Prime to fuck off. "Grandma, if you survive this, then I want ya to meet Crash, you would love him, he's everything I'm not. Nice. But I think he's dirty mouth too, cause he's always sayin' slag and scrap and frag, I think those are their cuss words, I know they're always sayin' Primus when they should be sayin' God."

Rose tilted her head and listened and watched Margery speak. Her granddaughter's eyes were wide and an inner light shone through her eyes. A rare warm smile was on her lips and her voice was high and inviting. Rose couldn't remember a time when Margery was like this . . . yes, she could . . . back when Margery was a little girl before the clairvoyance, before her daughter hung herself from the kitchen ceiling.

"So Grandma, I want ya to tell him that I love him and I hope the best for him. Tell him not to take bullshit from anybody, not even from Optimus Prime."

"Why can't you tell him this?"

Margery swallowed and said, "Grandma, I don't think these guys are gonna give me a chance to do that. I don't know what I did to piss 'em off, but they got plans for me. From what I heard on the news, these Decepticons aren't as nice as the Autobots."

It took every ounce of self control to keep herself glancing over at what was left of Michaels. "You should run."

"Can't. If there's one thing I can say honestly about myself, is that I never brought any harm to you. I run and they'll use to you get me. Pretty boy over there," she motioned toward Starscream who was barking orders at Skywarp and Thrust, "already knows we like love each other. I ain't runnin' from them, but that could be the marijuana talkin'."

Rose reached up and slipped her cross over her head. "Margery, I want you to take this with you."

"No, Grandma, I don't go with that stuff."

"I want you to have this. It'll make me feel better knowing you have it." Rose held the chain and cross out toward Margery. "Honey, I promise that you may touch this cross and not see anything bad. This was my mother's and was going to be your mother's, but now it's yours. And if you still don't want it, then you be sure to give it back to me later."

Margery shook her head, but she bowed her head and Rose slipped it around her neck. The chain felt cool and heavy on her skin, but it was safe as long as she had the drugs in her system.

"She's over there." Starscream's voice spread over them, for an instant chilling them with the sudden 'it's time' feeling. "Collect her yourself since Mighty Megatron entrusts you with his precious pet."

Margery smiled and said, "Hey, Grandma, precious pet, maybe this might not be so bad after all, ya know. Maybe they'll let me lay up on my ass all day and eat and sleep."

Rose knew Margery was trying to make light of the situation, but she far from the mood to laugh. However, she forced a grin on her lips and pulled Margery close. They hugged while Soundwave approached them.

"Margery, you keep your head high and don't let them take away your dignity or your pride."

Soundwave's footsteps echoed across the plant. Humans backed away from the lethal giant, not wishing to get between him and his target.

"Don't worry, I don't have any for 'em to take." Margery kissed Rose's cheek. "But I can give 'em some hell. For all that's worth from me."

Soundwave's shadow fell over them.

Rose kissed Margery's cheek. "You pray to God, alright. You pray to God and he will deliver you."

"You will come with me, human." The monotone spoke from above and it sent quivers of chills through Margery's soul. She knew she should be afraid, but she wasn't. The heroin and the marijuana wouldn't let her until they wore off.

Rose and Margery hugged each other one last time before releasing each other. Rose has tears in her eyes as Margery turned to face the giant that would take her away to God knows where. She took a few hesitant steps toward the indigo and white robot and held her arms up to him showing she offered no resistance and was willing to go with him.

Soundwave bent and picked her up in one hand. She hooked her elbows over the back of his hand and his curled fingers and leaned back for the ride.

Rose watched with blurry eyes and closed her eyes. She opened them and the monster was carrying her grandchild past the line of working human. She could see Margery lean over the cruel beast's fingers and something small and white dropped from her face and land on Sheriff Greg's head.

"YOU GODDAMN CUNT!"

"Score! Take that, bitch! Something to remember me by!"

Jenny and a fellow slave had to grab Sheriff Gregs to keep him from throwing his shovel like a spear at Margery high up in Soundwave's hand and be the reciprocate of another demonstration. His face was so red, it looked bloody. White spittle drizzle down his cheek and he practically slapped it off his face.

Soundwave faltered in his step for a moment and a moment only. He continued toward the opening.

"I HOPE THEY SHOVE THE FUCKING ANAL PROBES FAR UP YOUR ASS!" Sheriff Gregs roared after them.

Margery called back. "I rather let pretty boy there," she pointed at Starscream who was watching with amusement, "shove stuff up my ass before I'd let you come anywhere near me with your two inch wonder!"

Rose closed her eyes. She didn't know who was going to be worse off. The Decepticons or Margery.


	18. Scream

Barbegazi: Here's some Megatron for ya.

Megatron is one wicked character and a very unique villain. He's stealing energy to refuel his homeworld which is the same goal as his enemies, got a badass fusion cannon on his arm, got a loyal third in command (Soundwave), and a backstabbing second in command (Starscream). Why isn't it the other way around? Soundwave: second in command Starscream: Third in command.

* * *

Even high, Margery didn't care too much about being around Soundwave. For some reason, his power, aura, or essence, whatever the hell it was, still seeped through her drugged senses and touched her with an icy dew. This feeling was much stronger being that she was held in his hand and it didn't help that he was flying.

She didn't feel secure being in the transformer's hand as she did being inside Thrust's cockpit. She clung tightly to his fingers for fear of slipping and tried not to look down.

She knew she should be freaking out and she will be once the drugs wear off. Till then, she would wait and see. Maybe she can finally find out what the hell the Decepticons wanted with her, but she knew that whatever it was, it was more than less likely wouldn't be good.

The breeze was getting cooler and the sun was finally starting to set from what she could see past Soundwave's shoulder. She wondered if it would be the last sunset she would never see. Fuck, it was the first sunset she ever saw in real life.

She still had her gun, the grenades, and the box cutter for what good that will do her against giant robots . . . unless she found a Decepticon made out of cardboard. She was very much surprised that the cone headed Decepticon didn't just take the gun from her. He could have easily taken it away from her if he actually wanted to. Even the pretty looking Decepticon and Soundwave didn't bother searching her for weapons

The only conclusion she could come up with was that they believed her not to be much of a threat to them at all. Even using a gun didn't help her much against the conehead nor did it do much good against Ravage, however, it did knock his eye out. He did wise up to that trick and it wouldn't be easy to do a second time. But it was SOMETHING she could use again if she had to.

She looked up at Soundwave's optic band and wondered if a bullet would pierce it. It was something she wasn't willing to try right now being that he was the only thing keeping her from plummeting to her death. But if she had to in the future. She figured that it wouldn't break, crack if she was lucky, but not shatter. His optics were bigger than Ravage's so logically they would be thicker and stronger, especially since they connected into one long dash across his eye area. Still, it was possible that he would flinch if something hit him in the eye, she knew she would. It might buy her time to . . . what? Escape, fight, more likely run like hell.

The air blew out of Margery's lungs when suddenly _Soundwave_ _looked down at her. _"Resistance is futile, human."

Her ears buzzed and the blood drained away from her face. Did he just fucking read her thoughts? She had met kids, at the institute, who could pick up thoughts, but that was something she could pick up on, due to her clairvoyance. Since that was what Dr. Clarence told her when she first freaked out when she felt the flutters of some curious kid trying to read her thoughts.

Since when the hell did the transformers get telepathy? And why the fuck didn't she feel it . . .wait . . . of course, it was the drugs in her system. Since it blocked her clairvoyance then it was logical that it would also keep from her feeling a telepath touching her thoughts. Shit, shit, shit, then he knew about the weapons . . .

She stared back at him, waiting for him to demand the weapons, but he didn't. Maybe he didn't read her mind after all . . . maybe it was the way she was looking at him. Please, let that be it.

She slowly lifted her arms off the thick fingers around her and crossed them over her chest. The gun was in her holster hidden by her long jacket, the grenades and the box cutter in her inner jacket pocket, and her drugs in the other. She wasn't stupid, she was high, but she wasn't stupid. She wasn't expecting to take down Soundwave or someone as powerful as him. Ravage, maybe, with a well placed grenade, if she was lucky . . . and God was on her side . . . and she had a fluke.

Shit, she was out of her league. She was in their ballgame and she was the fucking ball.

Then to her shock, they were going down. For a wild instant, she believed they were falling until she realized that he was landing, not falling. She looked over her shoulder at the slowly approaching ground and saw several green and purple Decepticons working about something that made her think of a satellite. In fact, as the sight got closer and Soundwave landed, she decided it was actually a satellite.

"Margery?"

Margery twisted her head around and saw a dome shape light with Powerglide sitting limply in the center. "Powerglide?"

"Slag! They got ya after all!"

"And they HAD you after all." She replied sourly as Soundwave carried her into a freshly constructed building.

Powerglide said something else, but she never got to hear it, because Soundwave carried her inside and the doors hissed shut. It might as well be the Gates of Hell shutting behind her and locking her in.

"Finally, I get to see our elusive little clairvoyant." A very pleased voice broke across the room.

And the Devil just spoke.

Her heart started pounding against her ribs and a lump grew larger and larger in her throat. She sucked in hair and slowly released it through her mouth. Megatron, for all the news footage, posters, newspapers, and video specials, nothing could have prepared her with being in presence of the feared Decepticon Commander. His crimson optics stared into her and he might as well been staring into her soul as they froze her to the core.

She didn't dare move or breathe too loudly. Fuck the guns and the grenades, she wanted a motherfucking nuke because nothing short of that was going to save her now. She shifted backward in Soundwave's hand, her hands pushing against his thumb to give her leverage.

"Place her on the table, Soundwave."

_Shit, not the table, anything but the table. _What the hell did being put on the table mean? She didn't know, but she didn't want to find out either. However, there was nothing she could do about it.

Soundwave took the three steps over a worktable against a wall and set her down surprisingly gently. She swayed unsteady on her feet, having been use to the giant hand holding her weight. From this shorter angle, she was able to see the small building better.

It held control consoles against the other side of the room and a monitor that held an image the orbital pathway of the Earth and moon. Was that what they were using to help launch that satellite outside? What was the satellite for anyway?

She backed up several steps when Megatron came closer to the edge of the table and regarded her with leveled optics. "Do you know why you are here?"

For once in her life, she was unable to speak back to anybody. She shook her head and whispered, "No sir."

Megatron raised a dark ridge and said, "I believe you are what your kind calls a clairvoyant."

He wasn't asking her if he was right. He knew he was right and he was just making a statement to bring things up to speed of why she was here. Her chest felt tight when he said clairvoyant for the second time since she was brought into the room.

She nodded her and swallowed the bile building in her throat. Her legs tightened with potential energy as if she was unconsciously getting ready to run. Her drugs must be wearing off for her to feel this much fear.

"Then you will use your skills to retrieve information from enemies of the Decepticon army for our use against them."

The bottom fell out from beneath her. Holy fucking shit frozen into a popsicle and used as a dildo. Her worse nightmare come true, this was the hell she believed to be waiting for her when she die: the devil forcing her to touch things and be tormented by her own curse. The nightmare ravaged her mind's eye for a long moment which felt like eternity and she gave her response.

" . . .no . . ."

There was a long silence from up above and then thunder sounded, thunder that resounded from a storm from far away, but it was coming with promises of destruction when it arrived. "What?"

Her vision blurred. No, this was not a good time to start showing tears. It wouldn't make the terror go away and it sure as hell wasn't going to win her any sympathy with the dark gods before her.

"I . . .can't . . . no . . .I won't . . .touch things. I don't . . . touch things."

"I believe you misunderstood me, flesh creature. I wasn't requesting your assistance, I was telling you that you will assist us. You have no choice in the matter."

She swallowed and bit her lip. She knew he would say that or something like that. She shook her head, yes, she did have a choice in the matter, but it was choice not a lot of people would take. "I . . . I said no."

"Soundwave, bring me the wingtip." Megatron spoke to Soundwave, but his optics remained on Margery.

Soundwave pulled from subspace Powerglide's wing tip and set it on the table. Margery took several steps back from it and eyed it and couldn't help but feel that it was familiar to her somehow.

Megatron planted a hand firmly palm down on the table and leaned slightly toward Margery. "Human, you will touch this object and tell me of the information you derive from it or I will crush under my heel."

Margery closed her eyes and her bottom lip trembled. "Then crush me, you dumb fuck, I already told ya, I wasn't gonna do it."

Megatron stared at the organic that dared to defy him. She was terrified of him which he was pleased to see, but usually when he made a threat it was gave him results. Especially with these small organics. This one . . . seemed to be more terrified of something that _wasn't him._

He turned his attention to Soundwave. "Did you not tell me that her ability happens involuntarily? During that event on the human's transport vehicle?"

"Affirmative."

Margery kept backing up till her back hit the panels of the back shelf part of the worktable. "Even if you did . . . make me touch things . . .I'm the one that gets the visions . . .so . . .there's nothing to make me tell you what I see!"

"That's where you're wrong, human." Megatron smirked at her and it sent across her stomach. "Soundwave will download the images directly from your brain."

Her chest heaved as air hissed through her teeth. God, she was going to hyperventilate and faint . . .no, dammit, don't faint. If she fainted she was done for. She reached for the gun and pulled it.

"Don't you fucking touch me." She held the gun pointed at Soundwave, but she could quickly switch the aim back to Megatron.

Megatron chuckled and shook his head. "When will humans ever learn that their primitive weapons can never stand against us."

"It's not for you, it's for me." She drew back the gun and held the barrel to her temple. "He wants to scan my brain, he's gonna hafta scoop it off the floor first."

Megatron's smirk fell off his face. "You're bluffing."

She clicked off the safety. "I mean it. I'm not touching shit for you. I spent half my life avoiding touching shit and I ain't spendin' the rest of my life being forced to do so by you."

"You have five seconds to put that weapon down and kick it towards me or I'll order Starscream to tear your creator's creator apart."

Margery inhaled, filling her lungs, and then exhaled. No, Grandma Rose deserved to die somewhere safe and warm, not torn apart by large cruel hands. But she was afraid, so afraid to lower the gun . . . the cross hung heavily from her neck reminding her of the heavy burdens she had placed on Rose during her childhood and teen years.

She had placed Rose into a hospital to keep her away from her, so Margery wouldn't bring her anymore pain or shame. But even then, she still caused it with drug use and prostitution, her feud with the Connors and Sheriff Gregs.

_How did a sweet Christian woman like Rose Simmons get dumped with a granddaughter like Margery Kayla? _

She had made Powerglide crash land to come to Rose, to maybe for once pay her back for all the times she had dealt with the hell Margery put her through. She couldn't save her from Soundwave, but she could save her from Starscream.

Margery lowered the gun. "I'll touch it, okay, just keep my grandmother out of this, okay."

Megatron didn't respond. His grim face was on her and she realized he was waiting for her to give up the gun. Damn, so much for holding onto it. She put the safety on and lowered it to the ground. She wasn't going to throw down a gun and let it go off and shoot her in the leg. That was the last thing she needed right.

She kicked it over. It slide across the metallic top of the table and skidded to a stop less than five feet from the edge. Megatron, without taking his optics off her, picked up the gun with a thumb and forefinger and brushed it like he was squeezing a grape. She wince when she heard the metal crunch and the remaining bullets exploded, but did no damage whatsoever to Megatron.

"Shit." She whispered it was finally dawning on her just how strong these Decepticons were and how useless her weapons were.

"Now that that is taken care of, you get can get started."

Margery didn't think she would ever hear a voice so full of venom and dark promises of violence like this again. She jumped when he suddenly shove the piece of metal toward her. It screeched across the metal and she dodged to the right, but it didn't come close to hitting her. She stared and caught her breath . . .

"Enough stalling and touch it." Megatron's optics flashed and Margery knew that he was at the end of his patience.

She licked her lips and pulled off a glove. Her breathing wasn't getting any steadier and she kept blinking her eyes. Then to her horror, her feet started carrying her to the piece. It was small enough for her pick up, but it sure would have hurt like hell if it had hit her a moment ago.

She lowered herself to her knees and pulled off the latex. The cool air felt good to her hand. It was very soft having been kept inside latex and away from hard surfaces. She took deep breaths and stared at the metal piece and couldn't do it. She placed her gloved hand and her bare hand on her knees and stared at the metal piece. To her, the piece was pit full of razors and hypodermic needles she was being forced to jump into. She was standing at the edge and couldn't jump.

"I . . . I need . . .please . . . you don't . . ."

Megatron's patience was up, gone, no more. "Soundwave, take over."

Two large hands reached out for her. She yelped and threw herself backwards. Her legs dug into the table to propel her backward. Soundwave caught her leg and drew her back. She slid across the metal easily and he picked up the piece and carried it back to give him better space.

"Get your fucking hand off me!" She screamed kicking at his hand with her free leg. Her hands trailed behind her trying to find anything to grab, to gain purchase.

"Stop fighting." Megatron ordered her, but it ignored as she placed a loud kick against Soundwave's forefinger. "Soundwave eject Rumble to subdue her."

Soundwave released her leg and she would have shoved herself backward onto her feet, but then her eyes caught sight of his chest flipping open like a tape player. And surprise surprise a large purple cassette tape slid out. She watched stunned as it unfolded into a human size robot. It, Rumble, landed seven feet away from her and looked ready to tangle with her. Shit, she wanted her gun back.

She rolled onto her hands and knees.

_two purple and green robots, Constucticons, arguing over a schematics for satellite . . .no, not satellite, . . . weapon . . .laser . . ._

"Shit!" She snatched her bare hand from the surface of the table where plans had been drawn up. "You're building a giant laser gun out there, aren't ya'll."

Her braid was seized and her upper body was pulled upward. Her scalp burned and she reached up with both hands to get slack. Rumble caught the wrist of her bare hand and dragged her over to the hated piece.

While Margery was wrestling feebly with Rumble, Megatron turned to Soundwave. "Did she use her ability to find out about the weapon?"

"If this is the table the Constructicons used to draw up the plans, then affirmative."

"Excellent. Rumble, stop toying with her and make her touch the piece."

Margery had grabbed the piece with her free gloved hand and swung it, using terror, animal mad desperation, and adrenaline to put strength behind, and smacked Rumble in the hip with it. Rumble pulled on her braid and tightened his grip on her wrist which would leave behind a nasty ring of bruises. He kicked the piece from her hand and pulled her to her feet by the braid.

"Motherfucker!" She screamed, literally blinded from the pain lacing her scalp. The back of her jacket was grabbed and a metal arm hooked around her waist and she was lifted off her feet. She was held against his side like a tantrum throwing child and he carried her over to the piece ignoring her cussing and her kicking legs.

He threw her down and she hit the floor banging her elbows and knees when she caught herself. Before she could get away, make another futile dash for freedom, her wrist was seized and her hand was pressed against the piece.

"Finally, she's touching it, Soundwave."

"Her BARE hand, you idiot!" Megatron boomed. "The one without the glove!"

"Oh, slag, gimme that other hand."

"Fuck you!" She held her bare hand against her chest.

Rumble took her other arm and flipped her onto her back and grabbed the upper arm of her bare arm. He held it up and triumphantly slapped it to the piece.

"FUCK!"

_soaring, flying, floating over clouds and blue and the brown and blue and green earth below, beautiful, fun, glorius _

This was something she never received before from a vision. It was . . . it was _fun _and nice. The tension in her body bled away and a nice calm bloomed inside her. She relaxed and closed her eyes to absorb the vision.

_thrill of diving and rolling in mid-air, freedom that was once thought to be for only Decepticons were his/hers and he/she was loving it_

If she had her eyes open, she would have seen Soundwave's hands looming over her and his forefingers barely touching her temples and then take control.

It was like falling, better yet, being shoved down into a pipe. She scrabbled against the push, but it was a force so great it was a gnat trying to fight off an elephant with her efforts.

From the outside, she was on her back, hand held to the piece by Rumble and Soundwave's fingers at her temples, but elsewhere, she wasn't sure where, inside her mind inside Soundwave's, or maybe in between, they could have been located inside the piece for all she knew.

_Autobot checks points, security sensors around the Ark, guard duty schedules . . . _

She was dragged through these bits of information. Dragged as if has been tied by a rope to the back of a truck and hauled through the woods. Just as her physical body would have been cut, scraped, bruised, and wounded, so was her mental self was damaged.

_Stop it, what are you doing, stop it._

_**CEASE RESISTANCE.**_

The response resounded inside her head like an explosion of noise that continued to hum in her ears even after he finished speaking. She recovered enough to beg.

_Please, stop, it's hurting me._

Bit of knowledge drifted over her and it froze her with fear. He told her in way that inflicted no pain because when he hurt her with his mental voice it threw him off attaining information from Powerglide's wingtip. He told her didn't care and it would hurt her less if she gave in and he wasn't stopping because she asked him too. He was stopping because he got what he came for, but this was something that was going to happen again and again because she was a powerful clairvoyant and he was an even more powerful telepath.

Then it was over, Margery opened her eyes and she looked up to see the gray ceiling up above. Her hand was released and she dropped it to her side. It felt numb along with the rest of her. Then it spread like poison inside her mind.

Her head hurt and she felt thin, like taffy being stretched almost to the snapping point. For long minutes she had trouble remembering her name and what was happening around her.

Soundwave reported to Megatron the information that was attained from the warrior mini-bot plane's wingtip. Megatron grinned as this was opening a pathway of possibilities.

"We would need to get a part from an Autobot with unlimited access to sensitive information. Red Alert, Prowl, possibly Jazz. Maybe even from Optimus Prime. I'm sure Shockwave can somehow manage to retrieve a piece from an Autobot femme and find out where the rats hide." Megatron smiled broadly. "Winning this war has just gotten easier."

Rumble was regarding Margery, who had rolled onto her side and was trembling, and touched her ribs. "You better be glad, Megatron is happy, cause if he wasn't, I was gonna crush your skull . . ."

"Get off!" She swung her hand, flipping onto her back and it collided with his face. She yelped, caused it did more damage to her than it did to him. He giggled as she curled into a ball around her hand and whimpered.

"Primus, you humans sure can't hit."

"Fuck you." She retorted through choked sobs. For some reason, her skin felt tender as if she was feverish. Even laying on the hard floor was giving her some pain, but it was fading away fast as her body recovered from the shock of having her mind intruded on by Soundwave.

Megatron turned his attention to Margery and said, "The human is too willful, I don't like how she resists us. I want that stopped."

Margery sat up to look up at the two Decepticons discussing her fate. Was there worse to come?

Soundwave replied in a cold monotone. "A lobotomy could destroy the part of her brain that contains her clairvoyant ability."

Margery felt as if she just dodged a bullet.

Megatron made a sound of frustration and said, "A shame she can't be reprogrammed into a willing servant. If only Dr. Archeville's research hadn't been destroyed."

Margery swallowed and moved to get to her feet. Rumble shoved her back down onto her ass and planted a hand on her shoulder. "Don't move, fleshie."

"I'm placing the human under your charge. You will be responsible in keeping her alive, breaking her will, and using her to attain information. And Starscream is not to have anything to do with her, the fool will try to use her for his own means or destroy her all together."

"Affirmative."

"Good. I'll have one of the Constructicons build a cage for her. Take her to the Nemesis."

Margery was hauled to her feet by Rumble's hands on her shoulders and she was lifted off her feet and placed in Soundwave's waiting hand. Large fingers curled around her and she reflexively hooked her elbows over his fingers, which will become a natural thing for her for the rest of her life.

As Soundwave was turning with her in hand, Megatron spoke up. "Just a moment, Soundwave, I have a few words to say to our clairvoyant."

Soundwave held her up and she felt the full gaze of Megatron's red optics on her. She closed her eyes in hopes that she could pretend she was in a dark room somewhere else.

"You have a simple choice to make, human. You use your abilities willingly for us and it will be an easy role for you. Keep resisting us and it will not be pleasant. Consider this your only warning."

She found herself nodding and she opened her eyes in time to see the room spin as Soundwave turned and carried her out of the building. His feet kicked off from the earth and they lifted upward.

Margery swallowed and carefully kept her bare hand off from Soundwave's metal hand. She didn't want to pick up any visions from him.

Fifteen, twenty, and then thirty minutes of flying and she wondered what had happened had actually happened at all? Had she fallen asleep in this giant's hand and dreamed up meeting with Megatron, tussling with Rumble, and being mind screwed over by Soundwave?

Her gloved wrist hurt from fresh bruises. No, it had really happened. She was tired and she found herself leaning forward and crossing her arms on his curled fingers. She laid her head down on them and closed her eyes. She was tired, scared, hungry, and felt sick thinking about what could happen to her next.

Nothing could have prepared her the events of her time with the Decepticons that will shape the rest of her life.


	19. Cage

Here's some Crash for ya after being so long without him.

* * *

Crash waited for the phone call that would never come. He drove Blaster into turning his music on full blast to drone out Crash asking if Margery called yet.

"Man, tenth time ya ask me tonight. Naw, man, I'll call YOU if she calls." Blaster chased him out of communications and locked the door after him.

It was midnight when Jazz found him in his quarters, laying on his recharge berth with a half empty energon cube sitting on the bedstead. Ratchet had prescribed Crash to have a steady energon intake throughout the next few days.

"Because you've gone so long without being fully energize, you need to give your systems time to fully come into function. Especially the new parts I installed inside of you. I want to make sure everything is working right, so don't let your energy levels drop below 80 percent. Oh, and NO spiked energon."

Crash understood and followed Ratchet's orders, even going in earlier to get a diagnostics that afternoon. Everything seemed fine, but Ratchet wouldn't be satisfied until he was functioning well for the next three days.

It was 12:30 when Jazz came knocking at his door.

"Come in." Crash said just loud enough for whoever it was to hear him.

The doors hissed open and Jazz stepped in. "Get on up, Crash, my man, we're takin' you out to Portland."

Crash lifted his head and stared at Jazz. "Sorry?"

"Takin' you out to Portland, man. You been mopin' around all depressed like some fool stole your funk."

"Margery hasn't . . ."

"It's late, man, and the time here ain't the same as the time in Alabama. Over there it's 10:30, late night. She prolly went on to bed and if she calls, Blaster will send it through radio. Ratchet installed that, didn't he?"

Crash nodded. "Where are we going?"

"A nightclub with specialize service for us. C'mon, Tracks, Carly 'n Spike, and Sideswipe is goin'."

"A nightclub?"

"It's like a bar, but it's got tunes and dancin'. You'll like it."

_It sounded like a place Dodge would love._

"Alright, but I don't think Ratchet would want me to . . ."

"Ratchet ain't gonna do nuthin' to ya that he can't fix."

That did not give Crash any comfort at all.

* * *

"Do you think it was wise to allow Crash to go to Portland with Jazz and the others?"

Optimus Prime looked up from his desk to see Prowl standing nearby with a regarding look on his face. "I think its best that he's not here while I tend to the matter of Powerglide not contacting us in the last six hours."

"He has noticed that his human friend hasn't called him."

"I know. Blaster locked him out of communications in order to get some work done. I don't want him blowing a bolt when he hears that."

"Aren't you concern about Powerglide's disappearance?"

"Of course, I am. I tried notifying the nursing home, Fairing Wells, but I can't seem to get through. For some reason, the area has been very quiet."

"Is it possible that it could be Decepticon activity?"

"Very likely, but what in Cybertron would they want in a rural area as the southern part of Alabama? They don't have any major cities that require large scale power plants they would raid. The only unfriendly robot activity that area is most likely to receive is trouble from the Insecticons eating their cotton fields."

Prowl mentioned the name that was on Prime's mind. "Margery Kayla."

Prime laced his fingers together and leaned forward on his desk. "It's possible, yes, but I've never seen Megatron do to such lengths to obtain a human. Usually, he sends Laserbeak or the seekers for kidnapping, not a complete lockdown of an area."

"Will we send out a team?"

"No, not yet. Powerglide can handle himself, he's cocky, but he takes his job seriously. If we don't hear anything by morning, then we'll investigate, but carefully. I don't want us rushing into a Decepticon ambush."

"Very well, Optimus Prime."

* * *

The club was the same club that Crash had seen Tracks enter when he had first arrived with the kids in the back and had intentions of robbing the Autobots. It was a very large building and he found out that it had once been a warehouse before the owners bought and reestablished it as the Radiant Lights food and drink nightclub. It had become word renowned and Portland's largest tourist attraction mostly due to Autobot's frequent visits.

Since it was discovered, through a news interview to introduce Earth to the giant robots, that Autobots such as Jazz and Blaster were very interested in human music and dance, the owners were the first to pick up the idea of an Autobot friendly nightclub. They took a gamble and poured thousands into closing down the nightclub for six weeks and increase the building size. They set in Autobot size doors and seating with a greatly extended dance floor. They even managed to set in an energon converter.

Their efforts greatly paid off when both Jazz and Blaster and a few curious Autobots arrived on opening night. Since then, people around the world came to go clubbing with the Autobots.

Crash followed Jazz who was carrying Carly and Spike. Sideswipe trailed behind which for some reason made Crash nervous. The whole thing made him nervous. The only human he been around had been Margery and he didn't count the kids, they were a species of their own. Now he was going to a nightclub with hundreds of humans who will no doubt he clamoring for his attention. Crash didn't do too well with crowds.

When Jazz pulled up, there were cheers, but mostly from the female majority of the human lined up against the building to be accepted into the club. He opened his doors and Spike and Carly climbed out and stood clear for Jazz to transform. This was followed by more cheering as the obviously popular Autobot performed a pose for his adoring fans.

"Hey, Crash, you can transform too." Sideswipe nudged his bumper with a foot.

"Oh." He hadn't realized that Sideswipe had already transformed behind him. He transformed and was happy to see he was able to do so without tiring or feeling any pain or resistance in his gears. He received several curious glances from the humans as he followed Jazz to the open front doors.

"Carson, my man, how's it hangin'?" Jazz hailed the bouncer at the edge of the doors who was keeping an eye on the excited crowd.

The human stood stall and his frame seemed to bulge through his clothes. He grinned up at Jazz with great familiarity. "Ain't much, regulars been astin' about you."

"Been busy collectin' this dude." Jazz clapped Crash on the shoulder startling him. "Better watch out for this one, he's slick."

"He's new, ain't he?" Carson studied Crash's paintjob and frame design.

Crash shifted, suddenly for the first time in millions of years, felt self-conscious about how his color scheme had degraded. His paintjob was nowhere as neat or flashy as Jazz or Sideswipe's.

"We good to go in?" Jazz released his shoulder and he shifted backward wishing he could go invisible like Mirage could.

"Yeah, sure, just don't step on any clubbers."

Jazz gave the human a pained look. "Carson, my man, have I ever stepped on anybody?"

The bouncer shrugged. "Reason why you never stepped on anybody is cuz I always tell ya not to before you go in."

"Guess that makes sense."

"Can we go in now?" Sideswipe crossed his arms and regarded Jazz with an impatient look.

"Yeah, 'bots, go on in."

* * *

"I'm surprised that they were able to serve us energon. I mean, it must have cost lots of money in electricity to make it."

"Don't worry, they can afford it. We put the place on the map." Sideswipe assured him on the way back.

"What was that dance Jazz was doing?" Crash asked as he trailed behind Sidewipe's Lamborghini alt-mode. He kept the side a little to keep from the disturbed dust from clogging his intakes as they traveled across the dry desert.

"Break dancing. I don't know why, but the humans love it when we do it."

"Thanks for taking me back. I could have found my way back."

"Naw, it's okay. I hadda recharge soon anyway. I got a guard duty in the morning." Sideswipe was quiet for a moment and then said, "You didn't enjoy yourself at the club."

It wasn't a question. It was a statement and Crash didn't deny it. "It's just not my thing. I mean, when I go to get a drink at a bar, I can it do without human females rubbing against my legs like those feline creatures they have on this planet and having loud senseless music blaring into my audios."

"I take it you don't like rap." Sideswipe chortle swerving around a rock formation and spitting dust into Crash's hood.

"I couldn't understand what they were saying and what I did understand referred to mating."

"Well, what can I say, for some reason humans are obsessed with reproductive actions. Watch late night HBO and you'll see some stuff that'll make your optics fritz."

"I already have." Crash shuddered inwardly as the memory flashed across his cranial circuits. "I can't imagine Margery acting like that with a male."

"She could do that with a female."

"I mean with any human. She's . . . she doesn't get along well with others."

"I heard from Hound and Jazz. I also heard that Prime got a dose of it yesterday."

"Ooohhh." Crash groaned embarrassed. "I'm sorry about that."

"Did she really smack your hood with a bat?"

"Yes. I just arrived on Earth and I was curious to see a human so I went looking in my disguise and rolled up to her trailer. She came out with a metal baseball bat and took out my windshield and dented my hood."

"Why did she do that?"  
"She thought I belong to some people that came around to vandalize her trailer."

"Sounds like what happened to Sunstreaker one time." Sideswipe giggled and did a leap over a large rock which startled Crash. He landed, bouncing on his tires, kicking up dirt and rocks which pinged off Crash's siding. "A few years back, when we first woke up on Earth, Optimus Prime thought it would be a good idea for us to help out the police dealing with gangs and organized crime businesses. He wanted us to make a good impression with the population.

So Sunstreaker got assigned to stake out this drug dealer's house while he was having some sort of party. See, this kid was rich so he had a huge house with a huge front lawn and Sunstreaker was able to just pull up and parked outside along with the partier's cars. He blended right in cause all the kids inside were rich kids too and they could afford snazzy cars like Lamborghinis and moi.

He sat there was like three hours just listening in with this special listening device the police and Wheeljack gave him so he can record any names or locations mentioned inside. However, this pregnant female shows up . . . you know what I mean by pregnant right?"

After a week of American television and questions answered by Margery, he had a pretty good idea, but wasn't quite sure. From what he garnered, pregnancy could be a good thing, but a very bad thing too. "It's when the female is in the state of creating?"

"Yeah and they're fat too." Sideswipe did another leap and this time Crash knew to swerve away to miss the flying rocks. "This female was late in the creating process. When they're at that stage they are very fat and walk around funny. Anyway, she waddles up to Sunstreaker and pops out this knife and before Sunny could react or do anything, she used it to crave a long line across his door."

"Ooooohhhh noooooo." Crash moaned amazed. He thought of Sunstreaker as a very beautiful mech, but didn't have the personality that matched his appearance. He had heard about Sunstreaker's egotism about his appearance and how very protective he was of his paintjob and armor to the point that he got very violent. He knew first hand how violent Sunstreaker got when he was angry. "Why did she do that?"

"She thought Sunstreaker was her boyfriend's car. He was the . . . supplier of her creation's anatomy, AKA, father of her creation. And it seemed that he didn't want to uphold his end on taking care of the creation once it got created. So she wanted to get back at him by scratching up his Lamborghini that she mistook Sunstreaker for. Anyway, Sunstreaker is not just mad, he's super mad. He transforms and he's ready to football kick this female over the house, but Jazz (sorry, I forgot to mention that Jazz was also there incase things got out of hand, like they did) and stops Sunstreaker. The female got so scared up Susntreaker, her creating stages speed up to the final stage of creation.

Jazz hada carry the female to the nearest hospital so she could finish creating. The creating is very tough for females especially in the last stage, so they gotta do it in their hospitals. Anyway, she finishes the creation and names it Sunny, I guess as an apology to Sunstreaker."

"That's some story." Crash carefully picked up speed as the Ark came into view. "You guys must have a bunch of stories about being on Earth."

"Earth's fun, but it can get weird sometimes."

* * *

When Margery woke up, she wasn't where she remembered last.

She woke up in stages. First, where she asleep and knew she was asleep. She was comfortable and didn't want to move. She tried to go deeper into sleep, but something was nagging at her. She remembered the events of last night, but she told herself it was all a dream. Crash was a dream, going to Oregon, Ravage in the bathroom, the Ark, Powerglide, Decepticons, Soundwave, and Megatron were all a dream and she was safe inside her trailer asleep on her bed.

"When is she going to power up?"

Margery opened her eyes and saw Hell. She was laying on her back on a counter inside a very large Decepticon size room. Standing near her on the table was Rumble staring at her annoyed with arms crossed and across from her, towering over her, was a purple and green Decepticon glaring at her. What the fuck did she do now?

She sat up and winced as aches and pains rattled down her back and limbs. Her wrist, from Rumble's tender mercies, protested when she flexed it and she had a bad headache. Her throat felt raw and dry from thirst. She rubbed her face with both hands and groaned.

"Is it ready?" Rumble asked the bigger robot.

"I don't understand why I should need to waste my time with utter foolishness." The larger robot said in a sultry and cultured voice.

"Cuz Megatron said so."

The robot muttered something in a language she couldn't place and set what looked like a large shed on the counter near her. She got to her feet to get out of the way, but wobbled on her aching legs. She managed to stay on her feet and stared at the construction.

It was a cage, true to fucking blue cage. It reminded her of those little wired cages for gerbils and hamsters, but this was made of steel beams bend and welded into place. The door swung on hinges and held a lock with a slit on the side, like for a card key.

"Home sweet home, now get in there." Rumble ordered.

She walked slowly toward the cage and shook her head. "I've died and gone to hell, just like the preacher said I would."

Rumbled followed behind her. "Not yet."

"Oh shit." She was still in disbelief of the situation. She was still hoping that she was going to wake up soon and she was feeling irritable. She looked through the bars and asked, "Where's my wheelie thingy? I need my damn exercise in the morning, ya know. I mean, my God, if these are the clothes I'm gonna spend the rest of life in, then I'd gotta be able keep the weight off."

"Shut up and get in there!" Rumble gave her a rough shove forward.

She stumbled and managed to catch herself on the open door. She held herself up and stepped into the cage. She looked at what would be her home for a while. In the far corner was no doubt a bed. It was raised up on a shirt metal dais and a mattress or some sort of foam. It was looking inviting for her to lie on till the ache in her body subsided. Then something caught her eye that she didn't like.

"You put in a . . .water trough!" Against the siding to her left, a metal trough was built into the cage's side and it was filled with water.

The door banged shut, hitting her back and making her stumble for the second time today. She heard the click and the annoying chuckle of Rumble securing the lock. She was going to hate that bastard, she could already tell.

"Is my assistance required any further?" The larger robot asked in an annoyed voice.

Margery crossed over to the water trough. She was thirsty even though she would be drinking from a trough, at least it would be clean water.

"I don't think so, unless Soundwave got any other orders for ya . . ."

"I can't drink this." Margery dried her hand on her jacket and stared through the bars at the robots.

"You're an organic. You drink water." Rumble said to her slowly as if she was slow.

"Not. Salt. Water." She responded with gritted teeth.

"Water is water."

"No, it isn't. I can't drink too much of this." She closed her eyes feeling scared; annoyed that she was scared and thirsty. She could still take the salt from when she tried to drink it. "Look, I'm an organic, like you said. Then believe me when I say that I can't drink this."

"If Soundwave says you can have different water."

"This fucked up." When she got irritated enough, she got stupid and loud. "First you take over my hometown, you tear apart my sexy drug dealer who happened to be the sole actor in my frustrated erotic fantasies which are destroyed forever because I had to see him on the ground without any arms or legs, then you kidnap and threaten my grandma, you haul ass up here for your boss to brain rape me, and then you shove me in this cage and expect me to drink salt water when my throat is as dry as a goddamn desert. The very fucking least, I should be able to get, which I think is a very fucking simple request, is I would like to drink some fresh water. Some fresh goddamn water, does that not compute with you?"

"Oh, yeah, it computes with me. You're waiting until Soundwave comes back." Rumble had a cruel smile on his face. "Which should be several of your hours from now, so drink up or dry up, fleshie."

Margery grasp the edge of the trough in a white knuckle grip. "Okay, you bastard, I'll drink up, but don't be surprised if you come and find me dead on the floor. Be fine with me. I prefer death to this shit hole."

The smirk fell off Rumble's face. "Whoa, waitaminute, salt water can kill ya?"

She stared at him. It seemed that it was very very important that she stayed alive. "Yes, you dumbass, why the fuck do you think I don't wanna drink this shit. If I take too much salt in my body, then my body tries to expel it with water already inside me making me dryer than I was to begin with."

She remembered reading this somewhere in a book about what you should do if you were lost at sea in a raft.

Rumble shoved himself away from the bars and gave in. "Fine! We will get you fresh water and you better not go anywhere, as if you could!" He lifted off the table laughing wickedly at his own and not realizing he was the only one laughing.

"She won't be getting out anytime soon. I built this cage with exact precision and . . ." He trailed off in technical details Margery didn't understand or care about.

She watched both robots leave and had another look around at the room. It made her think of work shop. There was tool lined up against the far room and several tables. Was this their version of a repair bay?

Even if the water was salty, it was cool and felt good to her bare hand. She removed the glove from her other hand and washed her hands. Maybe she should ask for some soap when they came back . . .no, she already pushed her luck for now. They were her captors, not her hosts. Fuck 'em.

She rolled the sleeve of her sore wrist and dipped it elbow deep into the water. It felt good, the trough was deep, she stared lazily at her hand and slid it forward through the water and flicked her fingers. She watch the water stir . . . _from the other side of the bars._

"Shit!" She hissed as realization and recognition hit her like a blow. The trough was built into the cage so half of it was outside and the other half in side. Her mind flew back to the animated movie The Rats of Nimh or was it the Secret of Nimh? Anyway, it had a female mouse in almost the same predicament as Margery. She got out by pushing her water dish through the bars and nearly drowning herself to get out.

She pushed on the trough. No, it was securely fashioned into the bars, but . . .but . . .if she squeezed herself in, she could slip into the trough and out the other side. Shit, it looked deep enough and she think she was small enough.

She shoved the glove into her jacket pocket and took out the baggie containing her drugs and tossed them through the bars. They might get wet if she kept them on her while she tried this. She held onto the edge of the trough and the bars and stepped into the water. The water was cold and she hissed as she sat down in it. It was a tight squeeze between the bars and the side of the trough and she had to bend her knees slightly.

She sucked in air and went under. She shifted and twisted and lifted her head up. She nearly hit it on the bars, but she managed to lift her head on the other side of the bars. She blinked the salt from her eyes and dragged herself out of the trough a free woman. She almost did a dance to celebrate her triumph. Junkie 1, Decepticon Bastards 0.

She gathered up her drugs and slipped back into her now wet jacket. Shit, she hoped the grenades were still good. Her braid smacked against her back as she got close to the edge of the table and looked down. It was a bit of a drop, but if she lowered herself feet first at the edge, then it should be okay.

She nearly slipped off the table doing so, but she managed to scoot backwards off the table and dangle her legs, then her hips, and then the rest of her off the table, holding on with her hands. She let go and her feet hit the floor first, then her ass. She picked herself up, very glad to see nothing was broken.

She slipped and slid on the floor in her dash to get to it. It seemed almost shaped like Crash's quarters door. She could see the seal that opened it, just needed someone to press it.

She took off her shoe and took careful aim. It took her two tries. On the second, it hit its mark. The door hissed open and Margery wasted no time shoving her foot back into her shoe, running out of repair bay, and down the hall.

So long stupid cage with no wheelie thingy for her to run on and with it's dumb water trough with salt water.

Whoever said watching cartoons were just for kids should be shot.

* * *

Ten minutes later, Rumble came into the repair bay carrying a large container of fresh water. He had to find a purifier in Mixmaster's lab and then collect salt water from outside to run through it. The human better appreciate this or so help him he was gonna . . .

"Alright, here' s your fresh water you little . . ." He landed on the edge of the table and noticed the puddles. "Hey! If you're makin' a mess in there, then I'm gonna . . ."

She was not in the cage. He dropped the container. Water sloshed inside and nearly splashed over the lip.

"You better be in there." He said as he looked around in case she was hiding. She wasn't hiding, she wasn't in the cage.

His optics followed the wet trails across the table and saw they went off the edge. He ascended off the table and looked at the floor. His coolants thickened as he saw that the wet spots lead directly to the door. How did she get out? She couldn't reach the seal and she could fly like he could to reach it.

"And I told her not to go anywhere." He muttered as he signaled his radio. "Hey, Hook, I need your help. She got out."

"Who let her out?" Came the annoyed reply.

"No one, she got out on her own."

"That's impossible. I built that cage myself. There is no way the human could have escaped."

"She got out through the water trough thing she hated. There's water all over the floor and table. Come look and see for yourself. She got out and it's your fault. It's gonna be your circuits Soundwave's gonna fry if something happens to her."


	20. Boll Weevil

I do not encourage vandalising or stealing any monuments. It was the Insecticons' idea.

* * *

An hour later, after her not so dynamic escape, Margery was hiding inside a storage panel inside some sort of lab or workshop smoking a joint. She was snug behind several large tools for what function she didn't care to guess.

She took a long drag on the stick and released it through parted lips. She was lucky to find the door open in this workshop and was strong enough to open the door sliding door enough to get inside and shut it behind her. She had to use the lighter to see in order to tuck herself away in the corner behind these tools and items.

Surely they knew by now she had flown the coop, but they did not sound any alarms or sirens with 'the prisoner has escaped' blaring from loudspeakers like she had seen so often in prison and war movies.

She curled her legs to her chest and reclined against the cool wall. It was surprisingly cold inside the Decepticon base. It must be because it was underwater on the ocean floor. And her clothes were still damp didn't help matters much either. That was something that bothered her greatly. How was she going to get out of this place?

If she somehow by some miracle made it outside, could she hold her breath till she got to he surface. Another thing that galled her was that she hadn't swam since she was a little girl before walking around bare skin in a swimsuit was a very bad idea for her due to clairvoyance. And if she managed to get to the surface, she wouldn't know how to get to land unless a boat just happened to come by and pick her up.

And she had to do all this with a whole bunch of Decepticons after her.

Shit, she would more likely get caught again.

She reached into her inner jacket pocket and took out the box cutter. She pushed the knob that clicked the blade upward like a push-pop. She studied the blade and thought that anything was better than being Soundwave's mind whore. She knew now to cut down the wrist.

They wouldn't find her unless someone looked down here for a tool or her corpse started to stink from rot. She hoped that Rumble would be the one to have to clean up the mess. Her eyes studied the promising blade and thought of the lyrics to the song Suicide is Painless.

"About time Hook got a taste of some humility."

She jumped and within five seconds flat, she had slid away the blade and grinded out her joint against the floor and stuffed both into her inner jacket pocket. She held her breath and stayed frozen in the corner and held her breath.

Two sets of footsteps entered the workshop and they stopped close to her panel. She watched the sliding doors with bated breath.

"You said it, Starscream. Slaggin' Constructicon thinks he's too good to be around the 'likes' of us."

One of the voices sounded familiar, the name sure did. Megatron had mentioned it when he threatened to have a Starscream tear her grandmother apart. She swallowed and it sounded too loud to her ears. How well can transformers hear?

The first laughed, more like cackled. "I can imagine the fools look in every nook and cranny of this fortress trying to find one little human . . . do you smell something?"

Shit, fuck, dammit! She had been smoking weed! Shit!

"Yeah, not that ya mentioned, I do smell something."

She drew her knees against her chest and curled into a ball to make herself as small as possible. Go away, you don't smell anything, just go.

"It smells oddly familiar." The first voice contemplated.

"Aw, it's probably just some of Mixmaster's chemicals or maybe Hook burned some wiring in here earlier for the laser."

Yes, that's what it is. Go away.

"You could be right . . ." The first voice sounded doubtful. "Where is that blasted glider stored?"

"I think Scrapper keeps it over there."

Oh dear God, no, no, no, no.

Sure enough, loud large footsteps got closer and closer. Her bottom lip trembled and her hands curled around her shins in a white knuckle grip. The footsteps gave way to the grating sound and the panel slide open. A large blue hand reached inside.

"This is the worst plan that Megatron has come up with yet." The hand selected the round object that hid Margery from view. It was lifted away and she was out in the open. Out in plain view. She looked up with terrified eyes . . .to see Starscream's head turned away from her as he spoke to a purple, white, and black standing behind him. "The targeting will be severely limited due to the Earth's rotation. We'll be lucky if we manage to singe the Autobots' front door."

He stood with the tool in hand and shut the door. She blinked, temporarily blinded by shock and the sudden light in her face that went as quickly as it came. He didn't see her?

"If I was leading we wouldn't need to launch a laser into this planet's orbit. We would have already conquered and destroyed the Autobots long before this."

"Yeah, yeah." The other robot said in a voice that told her that this was a very common topic with his companion.

She listened to the Seekers leaving. Starscream said, "I know I smelled that odor somewhere else," before they both walked out the door. It hissed behind them and Margery was left to sit in the dark with silence humming in her ears.

She inhaled deeply and released it through her nose. She didn't just dodge a bullet, she dodged a fucking missile right there. She needed to keep moving, so somewhere else and hide. When he got done with that tool, he was gonna come back to put it up and she wasn't going to test her luck anymore than she already had.

She pushed herself to her feet against the wall at her back and walked through the free space that had once been occupied by the 'glider' tool. The panel slid easily open this time, maybe the Starscream guy had loosened it. She slid it shut, no sense in giving them a clue of where she been in case she needed to use this as a hiding spot again.

Her eyes took a moment to get adjusted to the light. She blinked and squinted, but didn't dare keep her eyes shut until she was in another hiding place. She considered finding a different spot in this room, but from what she garnered from the robot's conversation, this was a well used room. She'd want to find someplace that doesn't get visited often and where would that be, hell if she knew.

To her annoyance, when she was able to see clearly, the robots had shut the door. No problem.

She slipped off her shoe and took careful aim. The black Nike sailed through the air in a near straight arch, but hit half a foot below the seal. Dammit, she did not like how it had banged so loudly against the metal frame. What if one of them heard that?

She listened with bated breath. She didn't hear any footsteps near did the doors slid open to admit an investigating Decepticon. She breathed a low sigh of relief and hurried forward to retrieve her shoe. She backed up several paces; maybe if she was closer it would improve the aim. She needed to get out of here quick before another tool seeking Decepticon came.

She took aim again . . .

The door slid open and Soundwave stepped into the room.

Margery froze in place, her shoe in hand cocked back half way, her face staring upward into the optic gleaming face of Soundwave. A quick thought shot through her brain of throwing the shoe at him, but that quickly dismissed. Firstly, it was as useless as throwing a cotton ball at an elephant, secondly, it would more likely piss off Soundwave.

She swallowed, her face feeling as it was sculpted from ice and lined with skin, and dropped the shoe. It landed near her sock covered foot. She turned it over with her foot and then shoved it inside the shoe. She even flexed her toes to make sure it was on comfortably. She did all of this without taking her eyes off Soundwave.

Maybe he was suddenly surprised to find her out in the open or maybe he was so angry he stood silently staring at her for almost a full minute. She silently cursed herself for leaving her hiding spot. She should have stayed there for a little while longer after all.

"You will return with me to your cage, human." The monotone voice told her.

She backed up a few steps. "Fuck you."

That snapped the tension in half. He lunged forward and she bolted.

Her legs carried her toward the tables. Something she could use to coverage and possibly to keep between him and herself. The tables were held up suspended on a slab of sloping metal and when she braced her back against it, the table top was above her. Soundwave would have to bend down to drag her out from beneath the table.

However, Soundwave wasn't in the mood to chase after her. He tapped a button on his shoulder. "Eject: Ravage. Function: Retrieval."

"Shit!" She hissed and charged to get to the other side of the table base just as the cassette unfolded into the large Black Panther.

The sounds of his paws clicking on the metal floor made her heart skip a beat as she scrambled against the table base trying to keep from going into a wild panic. Damn, Ravage will be on her in seconds as soon as he came around the base and caught sight of her. She wasn't an idiot, there was no way she had a chance of outrunning him. She wouldn't have time to outmaneuver him and hide, he was too damn quick.

The grenades . . . the grenades . . . they were her only chance. She reached into her jacket with a shaking hand, _oh god, he was coming around the side, _and drew it out. Just pull the pin and throw it. God, how far should she throw it? How many seconds before it explodes? What if she was too close to it when it exploded? What if it doesn't explode at all and Ravage gets her anyway?

His head came around the corner and saw her. His optics flared, both optics, the damaged one must have been repaired. God, she swore later that he actually _smiled _when he saw her.

Her doubts and worries stopped as if someone flicked a switch from worrying to action. She would later believe that she left her body and saw herself outside of her body in action.

She pulled the pin and threw the grenade. Her feet propelled her away in the opposite direction. Ravage saw the projectile and mistook it for petty object the human uselessly threw in hopes of distracting him. It was only when it landed at his feet did he recognize it as a demolition projectile used in human military. He backpedaled, it didn't do him any serious damage, but the explosion was powerful enough to throw him backwards. He hit the far wall and landed on the floor in a loud clang of metal against metal. He recovered quickly, but it took his cranial circuits a moment to recover.

Margery cleared the table and froze when the explosion reverberated throughout the entire Decepticon size workshop. When it finally stopped, she looked up with wide eyes. Soundwave was leaving the doorway, but he wasn't coming after her. She eased her way toward the door, her eyes on Soundwave. She saw Ravage on the far side of the room recovering, shaking his black head and taking a few tentative steps toward his master.

While he checked on Ravage, she was going haul her ass out of there. She started running full speed toward the open door. However, a two pairs of robotic feet appeared in the doorway.

"What in Great Cybertron is going on in here?" Hook's cultured voice demanded.

There was no time to slow down, go go go before they see her. She pushed herself forward, double effort. She held up her hands to rebound off a blue and white foot and streak out the door.

"HEY!" The voice, Starscream again.

Her legs were burning sending numbing aches down her shins protesting the impact of each foot she slammed on the floor. Damn, it's been years since she ran like this. She wanted to disappear into a room, but she didn't have the time to take off a shoe and hit a seal. She needed an open door, but every door she pasted were closed.

_Oh God . . . _

Her efforts were tripled when she heard the clanging of robots running behind her. She dared to take a quick look behind her Starscream and Hook were _gaining on her_. She swung her head back forward and put all she had into running, just running. She nearly tripped rounding a corner, trying to cover as much ground as she could before they came around the corner. If she ran fast enough, she could cut take a left at the intersection up ahead and it would buy her some time when they looked both ways to see which way she went.

She hadn't planned on Megatron to be on the left.

She rounded the corner and saw the grey of Megatron's shin guard. Before it registered in her brain to screech to a halt or swerve, she ran into the leg at full speed. She literally bounced off it and landed on the floor. Blood blossomed on her face, her nose and mouth were in agony pain and her breathing stopped. Blood clogged her nose and she was out of breath from running so hard. She literally choked for almost a full minute.

Finally, she drew in breaths in ragged gasps and she looked upward to see herself surrounded by four robots, none of them happy.

"Hook, you care to tell me how this human escaped from a cage created by your expertise?"

"There was a flaw in the cage. She . . . she got through by the water dispenser." Hook's usual superior overtone was gone, replaced by a small quaver of fear.

She push herself up, but squawked with pain as her ribs, which had healed somewhat overnight ached as if she had been kicked all over again. She sat on her knees struggling to get much needed oxygen into her lungs. Her sore mouth sucked in and released air in harsh gulps.

"And why was there a flaw in your work, Hook?" Megatron asked in a cool tone that belayed fury.

Hook took a step backwards, his hands up to ward off the blows he knew would come. "I made a mistake, sir, it won't happen again."

Megatron's fist collided with his faceplate. A ragged scream tore from her throat as he stepped forward to deal the blow, his huge foot three feet away from her feet. She drew her legs to her chest, ignoring the protesting aches and pains in her limbs.

"Your mistake nearly cost me a useful tool, you idiot! You will fix your mistake and if this humans escape a second time due to another 'mistake' then I'll melt you done and have your fellow Constructicons build a second cage for the Clairvoyant from what's left of your shell! Is that understood?"  
"Yes sir."

Megatron looked down at Margery. It sent a shock through her system that practically chased the pain in her face and legs. "You try another escape and I can promise you that you will find yourself in a worse condition than this. Am understood?"

She swallowed some blood and managed to whisper, "Yes sir."

"Soundwave, take this scrap of carbon to her cage and clean her up. Hook will see to it that she can't escape again. I want Rumble to take away anything on her person that may be used against us. Starscream, you will repair any damages in the workroom."

"What? Why do I have to perform the repairs?" Starscream clenched both his fists.  
"Because it's your fault for not detecting the weapons the human has hidden." Megatron explained. "Now get to work."

The Decepticon commander turned and left, fully confident his orders will be carried out. Margery watched him leave and felt the tension leave her body and the pain creep back in. She turned her attention back to her captors.

"Hook, while you are fixing your 'mistake', you will repair the damages in the workshop." Starscream ordered the Constructicon.

"What? Megatorn ordered you to do that!"

"And I'm ordering you to do the repairs."

Ravage snarled at her from between their legs and Margery felt something warm and wet roll down her chin and along her neck. God, she was bleeding enough for it to drip down her neck. She used her sleeves wipe at the blood and tried to stem the flor at her mouth and nose.

Ravage snarled at her again and furrowed her brow. "Shut the fuck up."

"Oh, I see that attitude popped up after Megatron left." Starscream smirked at her.

She looked away and shoved herself to her feet, just in time for Soundwave to pick her up. The sudden rush of being lifted upward made her nauseous. She closed her eyes until it past and stared up at Soundwave as he carried her back to her cage.

Rumble was already there standing beside the cage waiting. "Well, well, well, look who's come home."

Soundwave set her on the counter. She held onto the side of the cage to steady herself. She could see the mattress or foam thing still in place and it now looked more invitingly than it did before. She just wanted to lie down and just sleep till the pain was gone.

However, Rumble wasn't going to make it easy.

He caught her shoulder and roughly escorted her into the cage. She struggled to shrug her shoulder free from his grip, but his fingers dug brutally into her skin. She was half carried to the water trough and before she could demand what the hell he was going to do, he grabbed her braid and shoved her face forward.

She barely had time to suck in air before her face was shoved into the water. It was still salty and the salt stung the cuts at her mouth and her nose. Her hands held onto the edges of the trough, trying to push herself up, but Rumble's hand was as strong as steel on her head. Right before her lungs started to hurt for want of air, she was pulled back. Water drizzled down her front and water dripped into her eyes. She coughed and choked as Rumble yanked her head back and stared at her face.

"Still got some circulatin' fluid on ya."

Before she could figure out what he meant by that, she was dunked again. This time she was held almost twice as long. Her legs kicked at Rumble's and her hands slapped at the trough's sides. She was finally yanked backwards away from the trough.

"You fuckin' bastard." She hissed as he released her hair and she backed away from him.

"You sure got a low vocabulary." Rumble crossed his arms and regarded with a smirk on his face. "You know any other words than fuck."

"I know lots, Decepti-cunt."

The insult was lost on Rumble. "The footwear, give 'em here. You ain't gonna be openin' anymore doors by yerself."

Margery was more than happy to comply. She snatched her shoe off her right foot and threw it at him as hard as she could. It hit his shoulder and he dropped arms to clench his hands at his side. "Do that again, fleshie, one more time . . ."

Hell, she had one shoe left and nothing to loose.

This time the shoe clipped his helmet. He stormed across the length between them. She backpedaled till her back hit the bars behind her. He caught her jacket by the front and lifted her off her feet.

"Rumble." Soundwave said suddenly. It was monotone, but the warning could still be heard.

Rumble face twisted in furious frustration and he growled, "Soundwave, just lemme slag her one, just one."

"Retrieve her weapons, Rumble."

Rumble made a frustrated sound in his vocaliser and his free hand started patting her hips and ribs.

"Stop! What are you doing?" She wriggled and twisted her waist, her legs kicking at him. "Stop it!"

He found her other grenade, the box cutter, and the drugs. He threw each one out of the cage through the bars and she screamed when he threw out the drugs.

"I need those!" She yelled reaching out for the baggie he withdrew from her jacket pocket.

"Says you." Rumble tossed them out of the cage. She twisted in his grip, her gloved hand trying to her pry his metal ones from her shirt. She clenched her bare hand at her side, too afraid to touch him with it.

"I am not lyin'." Margery pleaded. "I need those drugs. If I don't take 'em I get . . . I get sick . . ." She said a large indigo hand retrieve the box cutter, grenade, and the drugs. "No! Take the grenade and the box cutter, just don't take those from me."

Rumble dropped her and she wasn't prepared for it. Her ass hit the metal bottom of the cage hard. She shoved herself to her feet, bracing her legs and holding onto the cage behind her . . .

_Hook bending over in annoyance that someone of his skills should waste his time creating a cage for a pet human welding steel beams in place . . ._

She snatched her bare hand from the bar and stuck it in her pocket. She followed Rumble who was stepping out of the cage and was shutting the cage door. It locked with a loud click. She leaned against the door, staring through the bars beseechingly at Soundwave.

"Look, just leave the drugs. There's no way I can use them to cause any harm. I really need them, I mean, just let me take a dose before you take them, just a very quick dose before . . ." Soundwave turned with the items in hand and headed for the exit as if she hadn't spoken at all. "Wait! Dammit, stop! Gawddamn!"

Rumble shrugged with a satisfied grinned. "Looks like yer gonna hafta do without."

"Shit."

* * *

That same morning, the Insecticons finally arrived in Enterprise. Throughout the night, they had gotten distracted by the various crops, cotton fields, and plentiful trees. They had over seven dinners, twelve midnight snacks, and 4 breakfasts before they finally got to their destination.

They received the usual greeting from the humans upon their arrival. Screaming, running away, and even gunshots fired that barely scratched their armor, but was still annoying all the same. They stood around the Boil Weevil Monument and regarded it with disappointment.

"Is this it?" Kickback poked the gown wearing woman in the side. "The human is bigger than the weevil."

"Maybe this is just a display. The real one is somewhere else, else." Sharpnel suggested hopefully.

"No, this is the real one." Bombshell said with pain that a monument dedicated to his alt-mode was so small and pathetic looking. "I'm taking just the insect."

"No, take the whole thing; we came all the way out here, just grab the whole thing." Kickback said as he reached out to lift up the whole statue. It was a handheld statuette in his large hand. He looked at it turning it between his hands. "This could . . . go on a corner of a desk I guess."

"What should we do next? Go back to Megatron and get yelled, no doubt shot at for disobeying orders and notifying the humans to our presence in the area or should we go eat?"

"What do you think, think?" Sharpnel responded.

All three Insecticons took off into the sky and headed northward toward where they knew would be plenty to eat.

* * *

When Crash was summoned to Optimus Prime's office over the intercom system, it scared him. Especially right before the summons, a siren went off and Optimus Prime's voice could be heard calling for the Autobots to assemble that caught everyone's attention. He dodged, brushed past, nearly got knocked over by running Autobots, all of them heading in the same direction.

He finally got to Optimus Prime's office in one piece, but his intakes rushing to take in cool air for his overheated transistors. Prime and Prowl was studying a map of south Alabama on a large screen on the far side of the wall and both mechs looked over at the smaller mech.

"Sir . . . you wanted me?"

"Yes, we have to talk. Prowl, assemble the team you think will be best. I will trust your judgment, and I will be there soon."

"Yes sir." Prowl said with a small salute. He marched past Crash with an air of purpose and duty and exited the office.

"Crash, we have to talk about Margery and it's very serious." Prime crossed the room to stand in front of Crash, but not too close to be intimidating. "We haven't received word from Powerglide since yesterday noon when he checked in with us, right before he entered Alabamian airspace."

"Wha . . .?" At first, Crash was still feeling the rush in his coolants from running so hard, and then it hit him like a jolt to his system. "You mean . . . something happened to him and Margery?"

"And the children. I'm sorry you were notified, but we didn't want to rush into situation without knowing what we're dealing with or it could have been nothing to worry about. However, the Insecticons have been in Enterprise Alabama and they've stolen the Boll Weevil Monument."

"Insecticons . . .?"

"They use to be Decepticons until they broke away from them and became their own group, though they still work with the Decepticons from time to time. They're usually located up north in Canada where there's plenty of trees for them to eat."

It was as if Prime was talking too fast and Crash was getting the information backwards. Decepticons that call themselves Insecticons can eat? "Sir, I don't . . . I'm sorry, but I don't understand."

"For the Insecticons to be seen so far away from their usual eating ground can only mean one thing. They're working with Megatron again and he's relocated them to south Alabama."

The name Megatron made Crash's fuel pump stop for almost two pumps. He had heard that name so often before the outbreak of the war on Cybertron and had even . . . even seen him once in person. Even then, Megatron had sent chills of fear through his spinal column.

"He's on this planet?" Crash whispered.

"Yes, he is, Crash." Prime said in a firm, but gentle tone. "If he's in Alabama, then no doubt, Powerglide, Margery, and the kids are in trouble. Especially Margery, since Soundwave has taken in interest in her."

Prime paused for a moment and stared into Crash's frightened face and pressed on. "I know you two are close that you want to protect each other by not talking about the other. Margery made that apparent to Jazz and Hound in Alabama and you did the same before Ratchet repaired you. However, Margery is in danger and if there's something that separates her from the other humans that Megatron might want to exploit, now is the time to talk about it. For her sake and anyone else's this might affect."

Without hesitation, Crash told him. "She told me she's a clairvoyant."

Optimus knew he heard the term somewhere, but he couldn't remember where. "Could you explain?"

"I'm not sure I understand it myself. It's like she's extremely powerful tactile sensors. She's able to see memories surrounding anything and anybody she touches. She calls them visions."

"Did she tell you if she received any of these 'visions' on the bus before Soundwave attacked?"

Crash shook his head. "No, but just because she doesn't tell me, doesn't mean she didn't see anything. She . . . she really hates it. She calls it a curse, a disease. I think it causes her emotional and mental pain when she gets them. She avoids touching things, that's why she wears gloves and jackets in hot weather and she's . . . not friendly with strangers. She tries not to leave her trailer anymore than she has to . . . that's why . . . it meant so much to me that she would leave and put herself in contact with strangers and objects just to be with me . . ." There was a long moment when he considered the next bit of information. Prime watched and waited surprisingly patiently. "She takes drugs. Something called heroin, she tells me that it blocks her ability. She was taking some before Ravage attacked her at the bus transit. That's all I know, I swear."

"I believe you, Crash, and thank you. I'm sure this information will help us." Prime had a thought and he asked, "Crash, let me ask you this. If Margery was to touch Powerglide . . . would she know what he knows about . . . like security around the Ark?"

"Maybe, I'm not really sure how it works. You would have to ask her that." Crash replied after thinking a minute about it. Then it hit him too. "You don't think that . . . the Decepticons would want Margery for clairvoyance?"

"To get any information just by a touch, to know what the enemy knows without having to spy or interrogate prisoners . . . yes, I really believe that that is something Megatron would be determined to attain." Prime shifted his feet and crossed his arms.

Crash clenched his fists. "Optimus Prime, sir, I got to go with you. If they have Margery, then I'm going even if I have to go back there myself."

"I understand and yes, there will be room for you to come with us, but I need you to understand a few rules. Firstly, you will follow orders from any superiors that go on this mission. That includes Prowl, Jazz, Ironhide, and I, you will do what we say and when we say it, understand?"

Crash nodded. He intended to do as he was told anyway.

"This goes against my better judgment, you have no military experience whatsoever, but do you have any weapons or had any combat experience?"

Crash hesitated before shaking his head. "I can maybe shoot a gun, but I've always relied on my masquerade to get me out of tough spots."

This definitely went against Optimus Prime's judgment: taking a civilian into a likely enemy zone. However, Prowl had said that Crash's masquerade would more likely help them discover Megatron's plans.


	21. Plead

Saw the TF live action move trailer. I'm excited. I'm going to bed.

* * *

Prime ordered Red Alert to change any passwords, security checkpoints, and make any changes in anything that Powerglide may have had access to. This was responded with Red Alert's usual paranoia.

"I knew that cocky traitor would give us up in the end. No doubt, all along he's bored the red sign of the Autobots he has given bits of information to the Decepticons . . ."

"Red Alert, I really don't think that Powerglide had defected nor is he a Decepticon spy. I just want these changes in case Megatron has obtained any sensitive information from Powerglide against his will."

Red Alert had looked at Optimus Prime with a skeptical look. He turned in his seat at his station. "There have been times before when an Autobot or Autobots have been taken prisoner and you have never requested a change in security measures."

"This time it's different. We believe that Megatron has acquired a . . . a device that would enable him to attain information from Powerglide. I don't have time to give you the details, but just to be safe I want you to step up security and make the necessary changes."

Now Red Alert looked at _him _suspiciously. "Very well, Optimus Prime."

The Autobots selected for the mission for carefully handpicked by Prowl. Jazz and Hound because they have visited the area before, especially Hound due to his tracking abilities and his experience with wooded areas. The Lamborghini twins and for combat, Bumblebee for any necessary scouting, Spike around to be the envoy between the Autobots and the humans and his native familiarity, Ratchet for any injuries sustained, himself for tactics and acting as second to Optimus Prime.

Hanging back would be Skyfire and the Aerial Bots in case there is a need for air support/backup. The Protectobots would also be standing by for assistance in helping or protecting the human population. With Skyfire, and the gesalts Superion and Defensor as backup, Prowl felt confidant they had a good chance of a successful mission.

Around noon, Skyfire left the Ark carrying a full load of Autobots and Crash and followed by the Aerial Bots. They flew at top speed to cover as much distance before sundown, Prowl wanted to get there by the time it was dark to give them the cover of darkness. It would be wasteful, he told Prime, if they had to wait another day.

Of course, Ratchet wasn't happy to see Crash included on the mission. "Prime, that kid is still recovering from extensive repairs. The last thing he needs is to be out there for Decepticons to use for target practice."

"I talked it over with Crash and he is confidant that he can help us. And if I told him to stay behind, he would still follow us. He understands that he's expected to follow orders as if he was an Autobot himself. We aren't going to make him do anything beyond his ability."

Ratchet snorted and poked a finger into Prime's chest. "Since when the slag does the patient's word goes over the doctor's? If that kid gets so much as one scraggin' dent, after all the slaggin' hours that not only I put in repairing his stupid little aft, but Sparkplug, Wheeljack, _and _Perceptor put into fixing the scragger, I'm gonna take your slaggin' head off and give it to Megatron as a Christmas gift."

Since then, Ratchet watched Crash like a hawk and kept him away from the rough housing going on between Sunstreaker and Sideswipe. Jazz played some jazz and Crash was happy that it wasn't rap. Optimus Prime and Prowl stayed in the back and spoke quietly together, no doubt going over plans or procedure for the mission. The others had casual chatting among them and it nearly drove Crash crazy.

How could Jazz be playing music now? They were on their way to fight Decepticons. Why in Great Cybertron were the twins fussing over it pushed who first? One of them could be dead tomorrow. He could be dead tomorrow . . .

He leaned against the wall of Skyfire's interior and shuddered at the thought. He had . . . never done this when he was certain he would be shot at. It had always been sneak in and sneak out. Sometimes sabotage by imposing as the leader of the 'group' and giving false orders and other times stealing something that most people wouldn't have access to.

He mentally told himself that this was the same thing. Except for a different organization, this would be the Decepticons themselves. That didn't make him feel any better. With the exception of Stormsaint, Crash was afraid of Decepticons. He saw what they had done to cities and anybody that wouldn't work for them or join them. The only reason why he, Stormsaint, Dodge, and Triggerflex had been safe from them had been because of Duskdawn and his various dealings.

"You okay, kid?"

Crash was yanked out of his memories and saw Jazz taking a seat beside him and heard that he had turned his music down. The elder mech had a bit of a concern look on his face.

Crash shook his head. "I'm fine. I'll be okay."

"Ya looked like you were gonna be wiggin' out on us for a second." Jazz shifted his feet before him and then said, "This your first fight, ain't it?"

Crash bobbed his head. "I've always . . . tried to stay away from fighting. It's not because I'm a pacifist or anything like that. It's just . . . I'm not any good at it . . . Stormsaint and Dodge has always been the fighters while Triggerflex and I dived for cover . . .Slag."

He had done it. He had finally said those lost names out loud to a stranger. He hugged his knees to his chest and pressed his cheek to them. Jazz stared at him and said very gently, "Were they pals of yours?"

Crash heard himself answering despite his resistance to do so. "They were more than friends. We were . . . we could have been what you consider a gesalt, without the merging into a giant robot or the mind bonding things . . . they were always there for me and I was always there for them . . . we even lived together . . ."

"I think the human word is family. They were like family."

"I guess so." Crash said and balanced his chin on his knees. "They were all different each in his own way. We've had so many fights I'm still surprised we haven't killed each other. Stormsaint . . he . . . he liked going to bars, he even worked as a bouncer for a while. He was always doing jobs that required strength."

Jazz chuckled tilting back his head, the grin bright on his face. "Man, I hope he didn't join the military."

"He didn't. He didn't care for it much, but . . . he did like to fight. He liked going to bars, getting into brawls. It seemed like he came home with a new dent or scratch on him somewhere. Dodge wasn't any better. He was the one that started fights, him with his smart and dirty mouth. I think my cuss word vocabulary greatly increased after I met him. He even knew bad words from alien languages. My creator got insulted in five different tongues because of this guy."

"Sounds like he'd give ole Sides a run for his money in the dirty mouth department." Jazz glanced over at Sideswipe who was expelling oaths and obscenities at Sunstreaker who had kicked him against the wall.

"You never know what the slag was going to come out of Dodge's mouth till he said it. We had to watch him, because he'd do one stupid thing after another. One time he got in a fight with Triggerflex's Luaha."

"Lua-what?"

"A Luaha. It's an organic animal that resembles this planet's fox, but with a face like a possum's, but taller than a mini-bot, which is funny because Triggerflex was a mini-bot himself. He was a biologist and specialized in the study of organics. He would have a field day on this planet. He always wanted to go and explore an organic planet, but the war sorta gotten in the way of his plans."

Jazz stared at him a long moment before saying, "I ain't gonna ask where these guys are at."

"Thanks." Crash wasn't ready to talk about that. However, he did have a question for Jazz. "If . . . If I'm overstepping my bounds, stop me, but . . . why is everyone so calm?"

"Calm? You think this is calm?" Jazz pointed at Sunstreaker body slamming Sideswipe into the floor and getting chewed out by Ratchet.

"I mean, no one is . . . is scared."

Jazz gave Crash a small smile and said, "I guess we've been goin' at it with the Decepticreeps for so long, it's just everyday stuff now."

"But . . . someone could be destroyed tonight or tomorrow."

"No need to tell me that, I already know it and so does everyone onboard. Even the Aerial Bots and Skyfire knows it.

"Doesn't it . . ."

"It's just what we do, son. We go out, kick aft, and then go home."

Crash shook his head. "But it's gotta be more to it than that."  
Jazz reclined against the back wall and replied, "There is, but I guess the Jazz Man just don't know the words that'll make it any clearer. So far, we've been lucky not to loose anybody on this planet, but we've come close more times than I care to think about. We just don't think about it. Look at Sunny and Sides, they're livin' for the moment."

"And what do you do when you get to the battle?" Crash asked despite fearing the answer.

Jazz looked at Crash directly in his fearful aqua optics. "We just do our thing and do it with style." He pulled a gun from subspace and held it out to him. "Here. Prime told me to give ya this."

Crash accepted the gun. It was a military brand with a black metallic exteriors and energy rounds inside. It was a lot stronger than he had ever used during his travels. "Thanks."

"It's fully charge. Remember, click the safety off, aim, and fire. Just don't shoot any of these suckers in the backs, especially Sunstreaker over there. He's get you good afterwards."

Crash gave him a weak smile. "Thanks, I'll remember."

He subspaced the gun and hoped that he'd be able to use it when the time came.

* * *

Margery managed to sleep for almost three hours before she woke up to see the changes done to the cage. For one thing, the water trough was gone and was replaced with steel beams. She pushed herself to sit up and winced as the various aches and pains laced through her body. Damn, she dreaded taking a look at the damages, but she felt it was something she needed to do.

Damn, her legs were still hurting . . . was it from the hard run or was it from withdrawal? She wasn't sure and was afraid to know for sure. Sore, she was just sore from the hard run.

She noticed the container of water. Was it fresh or was Rumble going to be an ass and leave her salt water? She leaned forward and winced at the tender aches in her arms. Damn, please dear God, let this hurt as much as it will.

What should have been an easy job was made difficult in the weakness in her limbs and the pain that ran along them. She scooted it toward her on its edge bit by bit till it sat between her knees.

The water was clear and reflective. She winced when she saw her image staring back at her with one side of the face swollen and puffy with a coloration of purple and blue bruises. The corner of her lip was swollen and her nose had dried blood around one nostril. Her eye was sporting a bad shiner and was swollen so she looked as if she was squinting. Did she really run into Megatron's leg that hard?

She dipped a finger into the cold water and stuck it in her mouth. Fresh water. She guessed that Rumble could act right after all. She washed her face and wished she had a cloth to soak and press against her face until the swelling went away. Maybe an icepack.

She slipped off her jacket and laid it on the side of the foam. The foam wasn't as comfortable as memory foam, but it was comfortable. It looked like something used for cushioning in construction or machinery except it was made out of special fibers. At least it was soft and not hard metal they could have given her.

She hesitated before taking off her white shirt. The only time she went without a shirt was when she sponge bathed, other than that she was pretty much covered. Thankfully, Grandma Rose had managed to teach her not to go around without a bra on. The cool air greeted her rarely bared skin and she winced at what she saw.

Her arm, that had somewhat cushioned the blow between her and Megatron's leg had blossomed into a coloration of purple and pink. Her shoulder bruises were faint and almost didn't hurt unless she pressed too hard on them. Her ribs still had a dark bruise fringed with purple.

"Damn, I look like a beaten housewife." She muttered as she prodded each bruise. "A hit would be nice right now."

She even reached out for her jacket to take out the drug baggie that wasn't there anymore. Her hand froze when she remembered Rumble taking them away and Soundwave confiscating them. She dropped it to her lap and moaned frustrated. This was worse than being arrested by the cops and spending the night in jail.

Damn, she was lucky she had never been sent to prison. She was tough, but she sure hell wasn't willing to tangle with a gang of bitches. And she sure as hell wasn't ready to get turned into a lesbian by some big butch woman. At least her jailers were male or seemed to appear male, and the safest thing was they wouldn't or couldn't take advantage of her in a sexual way.

Shit, a bed, water, and hopefully food soon with no worry of bullying (that is if she doesn't piss Rumble off too much) and no sexual assault, she almost had it good if it wasn't for the fact that her drugs were taken and she was going to be forced to touch things.

She wondered if Grandma was okay. Was she still in the factory? Were they taking good care of her? The people, not the Decepticons. She hoped so.

Better yet, what was she going to do? The water trough was gone and her stuff was taken from her. She could have blown a hole in the cage with the second grenade if she didn't kill herself with it first. She was tempted to stand up and test the strength of the door, but she didn't have the strength herself to do so.

Okay, one worry at a time right now. She was going to go into withdrawal unless Soundwave gives it back. It's not Rumble she had to convince, it was Soundwave who was likely not very happy with her for escaping and nearly blowing up his pet robo-cat. She was either going to have to convince him to give her back her heroin or live through withdrawal and that was something she was not willing to go through that.

She got into a drug rehab facility once and only lasted a week before she left. She needed the drugs, really _needed _them. They kept the visions away, kept her sanity. Equivocal exchange. She looses her health to maintain her sanity.

She wondered about Crash. She hoped he wasn't hurting too much over her not calling him. She hated that the last words they would ever have for each other were angry words. She wished she hadn't called him a jackass and she hoped he would stay in Oregon with the Autobots. They would keep him safe and away from these Decepticons.

"Primus, you got the ugliest paintjob I ever seen."

She snapped her head up to see Rumble standing at the bars and sneering at her. Her first reaction was to grab her shirt and yank it over her head, but then her pride took over. Let the freak look, she got nothing to be ashamed of and hiding herself was a show of weakness. That was something she was beginning to believe was not a good idea to show to Decepticons.

"You better be here to give me my shit back or to feed me. Because if ya ain't, then get the hell outta here. I'm sick of lookin' at you."

"Hey, the feelin's mutual, fleshie." Rumble snapped. "Soundwave says ya gotta refuel everyday, so here."

He threw in a loaf of sliced bread in a bag. It was the brand with a smiling rabbit on it and it looked mashed on one side. Margery groaned as she got to her feet and made her way to the loaf. "I take Soundwave ain't a fan of the Atkins diet."

She picked it up and a spasm shook her body. She dropped it and received a curious glance from Rumble. It passed as quickly as it had come and she stood inhaling and exhaling from the fright of it.

She swallowed and said, "Rumble, is Soundwave gonna give me back my stuff?"

"Slag, no."

"I mean the drugs, not the grenade and boxcutter. I really need the drugs."

"Only if Soundwave says you need 'em." Rumble turned to leave, his chore with the human complete.

"Wait . . ." She limped over to the cage door where the cassetticon stood. "I really need those drugs, especially the heroin. I . . . tell 'im I'm sorry about the trouble I cause and I won't do it again as long as I get them back."

"Oh, you won't do it again alright. With or without the drugs, you won't do it again." Rumble glared at her. "I'm feelin' generous today, don't know why, but lemme give ya a bit of advice. You're property of the Decepticons, meaning you belong to Megatron. You keep slaggin' around with us and Megatron might get mad enough to scrap ya. Act right and cooperate, and you'll function longer."

"He won't kill me." Margery affirmed, her eyes set on his. "He needs me too much to . . ."

Rumble whistled and stared at her in disbelief. "You have got to be the dumbest fleshie. Maybe dumber than Sean Berger. Megatron wants you, but he doesn't _need _you. He'll destroy the Autobots and takeover the universe without your help. You're just here to make things easier for him to do so, but he's willin' to do things the hard way if he has to. Don't ever think that Megatron or Soundwave won't crush your little body or dissect your brain to see how your ability functions. Because they can and will if they want to, so if I was you, I'd try to get on their good side and stay on their good side."

Her hands tightened on the bars and she gritted her teeth. She wanted to deny it, but Rumble made sense. Since when did death scare her? Maybe she wasn't willing to die without a good dose of heroin in her system?

"Okay, okay, I hear ya, but I need those drugs. I'm not lyin'. I will get sick without those drugs."

Rumble shrugged and his feet left the counter. "That's up to Soundwave, take it up with him."

She watched him fly to the door, press the seal, and leave. She gave out a long and heavy sigh before turning back to her anti-Aktins meal.

* * *

Just like Prowl planned, they arrived just at sunset to their location. Skyfire landed and the Autobots and crash disembarked on the outskirts of Monroeville. Team B: Skyfire, Aerial Bots, and Protectobots would hang back in Monroeville until Team A: the others sent word for them to come.

The Autobots remained in the clearing that Skyfire managed to find large enough for him to land. It was inside an empty pasture near a wide dirt road. This pasture would be considered a rendezvous for Team B and would be considered a meeting place incase any members of Team A got separated or injured.

Optimus Prime performed one last check on each of the soldiers. He clasped Crash on the shoulder. "You got the gun, Jazz gave you?"

"Yes sir."

"He tell you how to use it?"

"Yes sir."

"We're going to Margery's dwelling first unless we see any suspicious Decepticon activity along the way."

"Yes sir." And then Crash added, "Thank you, sir."

Prime gave him a pat on the shoulder before turning to the others. "Autobots, transform and roll out!"

As if they were one, all the Autobots transformed in unison. Crash followed suit after a brief second of hesitation. He transformed just in time to scratch off after the Autobots. He lagged behind and watched them form a formation with Optimus Prime in the lead. He swerved and slowed, not sure where to fit in.

A horn sounded a head of him. A black and white vehicle honked again and he recognized it as Jazz's alt-mode. The Porsche skated over to the side making a space between himself and Bumblebee who had Spike as a passenger. The horn honked for the third time, an invitation. Crash put on speed and slid into place of the formation.

The formation trailed down the dirt road, leaving a huge dust cloud behind them. Crash enjoyed the feel of his tires rolling along the uneven ground and how good it felt to go at full speed without worry about his low energy levels. Everything felt good and in great repair inside him.

There was a feeling of unity amongst them with Prime at the head. They were rolling out, they were together, and Primus willing, they would roll back together. All that matter was the moment, the rallying as they listened to each other's wheels grinding up dirt and rocks. They were apart of each other in that formation, they moved as one and it brought a soothing sense of calm to any who feared the battle ahead.

* * *

Soundwave analyzed the drugs. The heroin would be the most likely drug the human will beg for. It would be a useful tool to attain the human's cooperation, however . . .

Soundwave had ran it's chemical compounds through a simulator that he had created from study of human physiology added that with study of the clairvoyant mind that he hacked from a certain institution's computer logs of patients/students. The drug slows down the human brain function and nervous system, thus blocking her abilities.

A human can be broken without the drugs. Secondly, knowing the human's suicidal tendencies it would be easy for her to purposely overdose on the drug and deactivate herself. Thirdly, what use would she be if her abilities were blocked when they needed her skills at an unforeseeable crucial moment?

The human can and will survive withdrawal. It may even make her more complacent over the next week or so.


	22. Memory

Finally back with a chapter. Been watching Full Metal Alchemist. AWESOME anime, dare you to watch the first three episodes and not get hook.

* * *

By the time the Autobots arrived within the vicinity of the jamming zone, Optimus Prime called for a halt and check on everyone's radios. Sure enough, their radios was made useless within the zone.

Prowl studied his comlink before announcing what everyone already knew. "This will make it difficult to send world to Team B if assistance is required."

"We may have to rely on ourselves for this mission." Prime said grimly.

"If only there was a frequency we could use that the Decepticons don't know about." Prowl muttered. "We could radio the Ark and they could give the frequency channel to Team B and then we could communicate freely."

Crash thought for a second. He took a moment to build his courage and said, "Sir, I . . . I have a comlink at my skiff."

Both Prowl and Prime turned him in unison. Prowl was the first to clip, "Does it work?"

Crash jerked backward startled by the sharp reply. "Yes sir, but it's second hand and it might have a few glitches, but I've been able to use it."

"Where is your skiff?"

"It's fifteen Earthen miles north of Margery's trailer."

Jazz slapped his hand to his helmet and cried out, "So that's why nobody wanted us headin' north last time we was here."

He was ignored and Prowl persisted in his questions. "Is it hidden? Could the Decepticons have found it?"

"I dumped it in a pond with the airlock on before I headed for Oregon. It should still be there. It wasn't giving off any signals." Crash confirmed.

"We'll head for it after we check out Margery's trailer." Optimus Prime silently agreed with Prowl.

"Right sir."

"Autobots transform. Lights off and move quietly and slowly."

They moved slowly in a more spread out formation to move easily around the wooded areas and trees. Sunstreaker quietly swore as a bush scraped his siding, but he was quickly silenced by a harsh snap from Prowl.

Crash stayed close to Jazz and rolled his tires as carefully he could over the grass and any fallen branches that he couldn't avoid. Fortunately, the moon was on their side. It was full and filled the area with a soft glow, giving off a peaceful false aura of security. He kept sliding his visual sensors skyway as if each time he looked upward he might see the figure of a flying robot. It's been eons since he last seen a Decepticon (he did really count Stormsaint as a Decepticon even though he bore the signia, he just didn't act as one), but his memories of their ruthless ways was ingrained fresh on his memory databanks.

_

* * *

He was nervous . . . slag, he was scared out of his mind. He didn't want to be there. Why in Great Cybertron did Duskdawn ask him to come? He wasn't any good with negotiations or acting as a bodyguard. He needed a bodyguard himself!_

_He was glad Stormsaint was there. If there was someone could take on a room full of enemies and come out without a scratch, it was him. Duskdawn could handle himself pretty well with his wrist swords. _

_Who would they be dealing with today? He hoped it wasn't a gang from the slums that managed to get their gyros on a large amount of energon. They caused the most trouble wanting to see if they could get more for their money than Duskdawn was willing to allow. It usually ended with Stormsaint introducing their laser cores to the outside of their shells._

_He shouldn't be here, Dodge should be here. What was Duskdawn thinking? _

_They were waiting for whoever Duskdawn had arranged a meeting with. They were inside an abandoned warehouse with the lower city slums of Iacon. It ran rampant with empties, slavers, and even illegal parts brokers. This was part of Iacon he wouldn't ever want to go within 100 klicks of if he could help it. What was worst was that this was the location that the party they were waiting for wanted to meet. _

_Stormsaint was leaning against the far wall, arms crossed over his chestplate. He looked bored, then again, he was the only one Crash ever knew of that could walk through slums such as these without getting a scratch or a dent. Duskdawn was sitting on a metal crate completely relaxed as if he was waiting for the servant to serve him his iota of energon. Crash just stood there, very much ill at ease and kept glancing around each time he thought he head an echo of a noise._

_He wanted noise, noise that they themselves controlled. He spoke. He asked the question he was afraid to ask, "Duskdawn, who are we waiting for?"_

_Duskdawn tilted at the smallest angle and so slowly. Duskdawn hated to waste anything, even his own movement. His deep purple optics bore into Crash and his lip components were set into a very thin and straight line. For a second, Crash was prepared to apologize for speaking out of turn, when Duskdawn's lips turned up into a small, warm smile that didn't reach his optics. "You'll find out when they arrive, dear one."_

_Crash quickly looked away. Even here, in this dangerous place, Duskdawn still insisted on wooing him. He caught Stormsaint's gaze and saw disapproval in his pink optics. For some reason, recently, Stormsaint had held a dislike for the genius engineer and weapons dealer. Where this came from Crash wasn't sure. But he did know that Stormsaint didn't like it whenever Duskdawn approaches Crash._

_It wasn't jealousy. Crash and Stormsaint were close friends, but they would never be companions or even bondmates. For some reason, Stormsaint thought of himself and put himself in position of Crash's elder brother or creator. The Decepticon was over three million years older than Crash himself, and had participated in numbers of wars that had taken place during those years. Crash respected him as an elder and as a veteran of war._

_Crash wondered if he knew who was coming._

_Suddenly, Stormsaint pushed away from the wall and stood to his full height. His arms to his side, but not relaxed. His pink optics were on the far door and it slid open with a sharp hiss. Duskdawn stood with a fluid grace that defied his mechanical body and Crash backed away nearly tripping over the crates behind him._

_He recovered quickly and embarrassingly steadied himself on his feet. He watched the door in time to see a large silver Decepticon with a large black cannon on his right arm. Crash's jaw dropped and his aqua optics fritz for a second from shock. _

_Megatron was followed by three Seekers: a purple one, a blue one, and a blue and red one. The purple and blue seekers held back, but the blue and red one stayed close to the Decepticon commander's side, but not as a bodyguard._

"_A pleasure to finally meet you in person, Commander Megatron." Duskdawn bowed slightly at the shoulders and head with the claw tips of his right hand touching his left shoulder in a formal salute._

_Crash glanced at Stormsaint and was shocked to see that he was as surprised as he was. The only one among them not shocked at the identity of the buyer was Duskdawn. _

"_It pleases me you could come to the depths of this place." Megatron greeted, his red optics gleamed almost lighting up the dim area like twin red suns. "Especially at such short notice."_

"_For an honorable and respectable customer, anything." Duskdawn's smile never faltered. He tilted his head and his smile brightened just a few shades. "I believe that is Skywarp accompanying you. I believe I installed a device for him half a vorn ago. Teleportation I believe."_

_There was a smile on Megatron's face, but it held no warmth or friendliness. It was cold, empty, and false. It was just a farce as if he was playing along to a role with Duskdawn, but if he so choosed . . . he would throw aside the role and destroy them all. Duskdawn was playing with (in a human phrase) playing with fire with gasoline in hand while having a smile on his face. _

"_You made him a . . . an asset to the Decepticon army." Megatron said in a steady harsh voice._

_Skywarp, the purple one, frowned for the merest of a second, but it was replaced with a face of no expression, but Crash could see the anger beneath the glass of his optics. He was the only feeling the heat from Megatron's underlining insult. Duskdawn's smile fell back into a straight line and the glow from his optics faded. _

_Crash shut his optics offline and hoped that Duskdawn would not boot up his sharp vocaliser and get them all destroyed on the spot. Another thing most mechs don't know about Duskdawn was his short temper, especially when it came to insults throw at his skills and devices . . . basically anything that he considered his._

"_May we begin our discussion on our transaction?" Duskdawn said with a tilt of his head._

"_Very well."_

_If Crash was human, he would have sighed with relief, and feel a bitter hope that they would get of there alive and unscathed. He looked over at Stormsaint who was still standing tense and followed his pink gaze. He was trying not to stare at Megatron, but keep a visual at the same time. Then it hit Crash that Stormsaint was afraid and with good reason._

_Recently, there had been word of a movement gathering Decepticons with Megatron as the leader. There was even a rumor of some sort of machine that could reprogram Cybertronians into loyal Decepticons; the Robo- Smasher. Since Stormsaint was already a Decepticon, he didn't need to fear the Robo-Smasher, but worst of all, he would have to contend with Megatron. _

_Stormsaint was tall, as tall as Megatron and strong, but he was afraid of Megatron and it wasn't just because the Decepticon leader had a fusion cannon attached to his arm. The stories were that Megatron was powerful, brutal, and had a habit of having things his way one way or another. If Megatron wanted Stormsaint, then Crash's friend was in trouble._

_Quietly and almost quickly, Duskdawn and Megatron came to a deal that made each party satisfied. Megatron would have free run of the factories and energon storages owned by Duskdawn, not to mention the caches of weapons hidden beneath each district while Duskdawn would receive payment in the form of protection from any Decepticon military influence (as long as he did nothing to aid the Autobot faction), be free to continue his work and run his 'business', not to mention 10 of energon reserves within Iacon when it fell. And to show support and 'wishes of good will' toward the Decepticon Leader, Duskdawn pledged to pledge 300 energon cubes each year until the Decepticons overtook Cybertron and then would fully give his loyalty their cause in Universal domination. _

_Holy Shit._

_Which was something Crash would have thought if he familiar with the term, but the words crossing his CPU were to the same effect. He stood amazed, shocked, stunned, and stared in disbelief at his 'suitor' as he literally gave his support to Megatron. _

_Megatron smiled, but this time is was a true smile. He was happy with the deal and if Megatron was happy, then people around him got to live._

"_How do we know that he isn't holding out on us?" The red and blue Decepticon stepped forward throwing looks of dislike and distrust at Duskdawn. "What if there is more for him offer us?"_

_Annoyance passed over Megatron's sharp features as his sensor points focused on the upstart. "Shut up, Starscream, I'm dealing with him, not you."_

"_I'll hide nothing from you." Duskdawn's smile returned. "There is more that I can offer you, but I will expect more in return. Perhaps you are the ones holding out on me."_

_Both Decepticons fixed Duskdawn with fierce gazes. Crash gasped and backed up to actually trip the crates behind his legs. The clang of his shell hitting the metal plated floor echoed through the warehouse and raised chuckles from Skywarp and the blue seeker. He shoved himself upward and sat on his aft as he watched things unfold. Stormsaint, he could see from the corner of his optics, was watching the situation and stood ready to launch if he had to._

"_Are you saying that I . . . am trying to cheat you?" Megatron said with fury barely hidden beneath his vocaliser. _

_Duskdawn elegantly shook his head. "No, no, forgive me, you misunderstood me. I mean to say that neither of us are putting all of our . . . how should I say it . . . energon chips on the table. I have more facilities than you know of and you no doubt have more to offer me, but we each keep our pieces hidden in order to loose as little we can. It's a common practice with any negotiator or dealer. It's only good dealing that I'm accusing you of."_

_Megatron regarded Duskdawn with a very cool gaze. "You're very brave, Duskdawn, I will give you that, and a genius engineer, I won't deny that. But bravery and genius doesn't make up for stupidity."_

_Duskdawn's smile turned into a twisted snarl. This was it, Duskdawn was going to do it and get them all killed. Before the engineer could blurt out with a torrent of insults, Stormsaint spoke up loud and clear._

"_How goes it on the front, sir? Was it your people that overtook the power plant west of Metaplex? I heard the Guardian defending it was strong? Was his name not Juggernaut?"_

_Megatron looked at Stormsaint, taking in his appearance and the purple signias on his wings. He grinned and gave the fellow Decepticon his full attention. "Yes, I led the attack. Your name?"_

"_Stormsaint, sir."_

"_Stormsaint? I don't believe I've heard that name before."_

"_I was a simple soldier, sir." Stormsaint replied shortly._

"_I see." Megatron cocked his head interestingly in Stormsaint direction. He looked as if he was going to say something, but his cohort burst into the conversation._

"_Megatron, must we stay amongst this rabble any longer?" Stormsaint received the same look of dislike from Starscream that Duskdawn had received earlier. "If we have no other business with them . . .let us go. We don't have time to recruit new troops."_

"_Shut up, Starscream!" This time Megatron turned with a backhanded blow to the side of his helmet. The seeker was nearly ejected toward the far wall from the impact of the blow. He skidded across the floor, sparks splashing his sides until he finally came to a halt. He leaned upward on his elbows and glared red hot hatred at his superior. _

_The sudden flash of violence brought deafening silence to the room. Megatron turned to Duskdawn as if expecting an attack. He glanced at Stormsaint who remained in the same spot the entire time. The grey and pink optic Decepticon kept his distance, but held no position as if to attack. Duskdawn stood in silent fury at being dismissed and being overtaken by his own lackey._

_Then Megatron's optics fell on Crash's turquoise and red frame and the smaller neutral froze like a rabbit in the headlights of a tank. Megatron studied Crash's terrified optics and grinned with deep satisfaction and pleasure. _

_He turned his head toward his inferiors and said, "We're leaving. I'm sure that Duskdawn will bring up his end of the bargain . . . if he doesn't . . ." Megatron let the sentence trail off knowing full well that the mechs in the warehouse already knew what he meant. He gave Stormsaint one last glance along with a rare small smile, "I look forward to seeing you again, Stormsaint."_

_Stormsaint bowed his upper body silently. "I'm honored, sir." _

_Crash thought that from the deep dread in his pink optics, he sure didn't look honored._

_The Decepticon Leader departed with his lackeys following him. Behind him, he left a tense suffocation of silence and fear. Crash slowly got to his feet and it slowly dawned on him that they were safe. They hadn't been destroyed or deactivated and they would function to see another day._

_However, that ended when Stormsaint pounced on Duskdawn and smashed a fist into his delicate features. Duskdawn skidded across the floor, throwing up sparks from his back and the floor much like what had happened to Starscream, but this time he hit the far wall close to Crash._

"_Storm!" Crash hollered as the angry Decepticon literally flew across the space between him and Duskdawn and haul the engineer upwards. _

_He held Duskdawn off his feet and against the wall. "You slaggin' IDIOT! You almost got us killed! You have NO clue as to what almost happened and what has happened, do you? DO YOU?"_

_He slammed Duskdawn against the wall repeatedly as he spoke. Crash stumbled over crates to stop him, but froze when Duskdawn's wrist sword sprang from the tubular hole along his wrist. The point grazed Stormsaint's fuel lines in his neck making him lift of his jaw and slightly lean away from the following point._

_Duskdawn_ _leaned forward and said in a clear voice stemming full of malice. "Put me down, Stormsaint, or you will loose a head."_

_Stormsaint_ _did so but grudgingly. He stepped back, but his fierce gaze didn't leave Duskdawn's face. "You should have told us."_

_Duskdawn_ _checked himself slowly and carefully and frowned when he noticed any dents or scratches. It was while before he answered, making them wait for the reply as punishment. Then he finally answered, "You would have been upset."_

_Stormsaint_ _would have exploded if it was anyone else. He spoke steely through a faceplate full of rage, "I'm upset right now. You just gave support to the Decepticons, directly to Megatron himself. There's no backing out of it now."_

"_Exactly."_

_Stormsaint's_ _optics flashed with silent rage and horror. "You did this on purpose! To bring me here in front of Megatron. You set me up!"_

"_I . . .I don't understand." Crash shook his head uncomprehending of what was going on around him._

"_Slaggit, Crash, think about it!" Stormsaint turned on the smaller mech. "Megatron is hunting for cannon fodder, or troops, anybody and anything that can strengthen his army! Didn't you see the way he was looking at me? He was already enlisting me with his optics!"_

"_Tell him no!" Crash sputtered._

_Stormsaint_ _threw his head back and barked out a loud and hard laugh. He shook his head sadly and bitterly. "Crash, surely you might have noticed that Megatron is not a mech you just say no to. Primus, sometimes I wish my creator hadn't built me like this strong."_

"_You shouldn't have called attention to yourself." Duskdawn's voice was like a soothing balm except it was really acid that would start to burn after a few minutes. _

"_I got his attention to keep him from blasting you and Crash . . ." Then another revelation dawned on him. "That's why you brought Crash! Why you insisted on Crash to come! You purposely antagonized Megatron just so I would draw his attention away to keep him from hurting Crash! You KNEW that I wouldn't move one gyro or servo to save your sorry aft! But I would save Crash if I had to! You planned this!"_

_Duskdawn_ _shook his head as if Stormsaint was talking nonsense, but a smile still played on his lips. "Don't worry, Stormsaint, I can protect you. I can barter with Megatron to keep you under my employment. I'll just offer him more energon cubes . . ."_

"_And you buy me like I'm some empty slave." Never had Crash seen Stormsaint's optics to glow almost red like his Decepticon brethren's optics. _

"_Of course not!"_ _Duskdawn feigned being in pain by the accusation. "Consider it a loan that you'll pay back."_

_Crash finally blurted out what was bothering him most. "Duskdawn! You signed on with the Decepticons! That's . . . that's TREASON! We'll be in big trouble! They'll arrest us! Put ours minds in stasis lock for thousands of years! Or execute us! I don't want to die!"_

_He was panicking, imagining the Protectorate coming for him, putting energy cuff links on his wrists or power bonds around him. He had never been in trouble with the law before, not even any minor violation. Now he was caught in treason._

_Suddenly, Duskdawn's sharp fingers touched his faceplate and he jerked away startled. Duskdawn was only a head taller than he was, but his frame was frail compared to Crash's. "Crash, shhh, don't worry. I know what I'm doing. I can keep both you and Stormsaint safe, but you must stay with me in order for me to do that."_

_Stormsaint_ _muttered an oath behind them. _

_Duskdawn_ _continued speaking as if Stormsaint wasn't there. His almost black optics rested on Crash's worried face. "I didn't sign on with the Decepticons, I've given them my support. The Autobots speak of freedom of choice and I used my freedom to choose the Decepticon side. And how can this be treason? 50 vorns ago, the Decepticons ruled before the Autobots overthrew them. It's the same thing all over again except vice versa. You worry too much, love, don't you trust me?"_

_The answer was no, flat out no. But Duskdawn's voice seeped into his spark, giving him a soothing sensation and relief. He was the only one that Duskdawn spoke to like this. He reserved this tone and kindness for him alone. Crash was flattered and deeply proud to gain the attention of a mech with high upstandings as Duskdawn. _

"_I . . . I trust you, Duskdawn." Crash heard himself say and saw Stormsaint shook his head over Duskdawn's shoulder._

"_Hearing that pleases me down to the core of my spark, dear one." Duskdawn smiled warmly. Another thing that only Crash received from him. "I'm leaving you in Stormsaint's care. I have other duties to tend to in this area and I don't want you here any longer than necessary. I'll see you tomorrow."_

_Duskdawn_ _gave Crash's cheek a stroke before turning away and exiting out the same route that Megatron had taken. Crash watch him leave, feeling lonely and cheated at the same time._

_Then he was hauled around to face Stormsaint. The Decepticon wasn't as full of rage as he was with Duskdawn, but he was angry all the same. "How in Primus's name can you allow that helio-rat manipulate you like this? He USED you just now, REMEMBER!"_

_Crash looked away from Stormsaint, not wanting to meet those angry pink optics. "I can't explain. The way he talks to me . . . it makes me feel . . . really good, you wouldn't understand."_

"_Just tell me one thing. Did you believe any of the junk he fed you?"  
"I don't know what to believe."_

"_Then believe this," Stormsaint snarled, causing Crash to flinch. "that mech is pouring up a smelting pool and he's making us walk around the edge. One slip up and we ALL take a very hot dip! Megatron is not a mech you slag around with!" Stormsaint's fingertips dented Crash's shoulder plating and the aqua opticed mech twisted free. Stormsaint kept talking to him. "I'd leave the slaggin' scrap heap, but Primus, he got me under his thumb now! I don't know what is sparking through his head!"_

"_Maybe . . . maybe he's really just trying to . . ."_

_Stormsaint_ _shoved a finger into his face. "Don't you DARE try to cover for him. Don't start, Crash, don't start. You got to get out now while you still can."_

"_WHAT?"_ _Crash wasn't sure he heard correctly. "Leave? As in leave you guys?_

"_Yes. Get out while you still can. Take Dodge and Triggerflex if they'll come with you . . ."_

"_No!" Crash shook his head furiously. "I'm not leaving my best friend because of some tyrant . . ."_

"_You talking about Megatron or Duskdawn?"_

_Crash shook his head again. "Storm, I am not leaving. If we go down, we go down together. And that's the end of it."_

_Stormsaint_ _regarded Crash with a newly found sense of respect for his smaller friend. "Just promise me one thing. Just don't become Duskdawn's companion. And most of all, just please, don't become his bondmate."_

* * *

And Crash had failed at both promises.

He tore himself away from the memory, nearly sideswiping Sideswipe. The red Lamboghini swiped back at him nearly making him swerve into Jazz. Jazz veered off to avoid being scrapped and Crash steadied himself. He would have to apologize both to Sideswipe and Jazz when he got the chance.

During his long reminisce; they had crossed the distance and they had finally arrived to Margery's trailer much to his surprised. How long had he been driving on memory lane?

The trailer was exactly as he had left it, better yet, Margery left it. It still had smears of red paint where she had used pain thinner to wash away the graffiti and the windows were taped up with newspapers. Even her lounge chair was still facing the door when she and he would watch tv together. He would have given anything and everything to see Margery open the door and demand what the hell they were doing on her lawn.

She didn't. But the Decepticons attacked.

Suddenly, the ground was peppered with purple laser blasts about them. Optimus shouted something, but Crash was unable to understand his commands. The Autobots transformed and returned fire. They shot into the branches that had hidden the Decepticons frames in the moonlight.

Crash transformed and pulled his gun from subspace. He fired into the branches without aiming, not able to see what it was he was firing at. Just that it was something firing at him. He hissed with shock as a energy blast sprayed dirt and soil across his foot. He jumped back and nearly knocked Bumblebee over onto Spike.

There was a sound metal moving against metal, gears locking into place, and something grew over the dark branches of the trees. Jazz swore in Cybertronian and hissed a name that chilled the fuel in his system. Devastator.

Crash backed up almost stepping on Bumblebee and Spike. The gun shook in his hand as he continued to back away. His courage failed him. He transformed, dropping the gun, and fled. His tires spun up soil and grass as he screeched past Sideswipe and Prowl nearly bowling over Ratchet to escape.

* * *

Optimus didn't need Prowl to report to him to know that Crash had run away from the battle. He had expected it, but there was nothing he could do about it now. He had a battle on his hands and he needed to get his Autobots to safety. 

Two figure swooped downward from the trees. Two jets shot toward Prowl from behind before Optimus Prime could determine their target. They transformed before impacting into the tactician. Skywarp and Thundercracker hauled him upward with them by his arms and doorwings. Prowl's faceplate twisted in both shock and anger.

Optimus took aim to fire at one of the kidnapping seekers, and then something came roaring into him. He was thrown backward as Astrotrain, in train mode, bore into him.

Optimus Prime recovered just in time to see the seekers bearing Prowl away over the treetops and disappear from view. Prime wanted nothing more than to transform and go after them, but he had a responsibility to the others.

"Jazz! Take Sunstreaker and go after Prowl! Rendezvous at Crash's skiff!"

"Let's roll 'bots!" Jazz transformed and rolled in the same direction that kidnapped Prowl went followed by a green jeep and a gold Lamborghini.

Optimus turned his attention to the trouble in hand, but was in time to see Devastator pick up the small trailer and chuck it at Sideswipe. It smashed into the red twin and sent him sprawling. Trash ad pizza boxes exploded at the trailer cracked open like an egg against Sideswipe shell. It was fortunate for him that the trailer was weakly built with not so strong material or else he would have suffered some damages.

Sideswipe easily recovered from the impact and stepped through the remains of the trailer, his feet crushing Margery's spilt furniture. His pile drivers slide down his arms and his began smashing the ground.

The earthquake threw Autobots off their feet and unsteadied Devestator enough for Optimus to lift his rifle and get in some shots.

* * *

Prowl was savagely pinned to the ground between the two seekers. Though he tried to fight against his captors, he quickly came to the conclusion that he wasn't strong enough to break free from two Decepticon seekers and it may benefit him to be compliant and see if he could discover information from them and get out alive.

"Finally, it's about time you brought him." An oh so familiar voice spoke.

Prowl craned his head against the grass to see Starscream stepping from the shadows with a laser scalpel in hand. Prowl hid his fear behind a blank mask of calmness. He spoke in a smooth tone, "What do you want from me?"

Starscream stood over him and toyed with the scalpel between his hands. "Megatron wants a little gift for his pet human."

Prowl's optics widened. "Margery Kayla. You have her."

Starscream replied with a cold smirk and lowered the scalpel toward one of Prowl's red horned crests. Prowl knew what he intended and prepared himself for the pain. But even with preparedness couldn't stop him from screaming at the scalpel sliced easily through the metal shelling of his crest. The pain lanced through his cranial circuits making him short out for a brief second. His optics shut off and then flashed back on for him to see Starscream holding the severed crest on hand. Droplets of pink energon dripped over his hand and onto the grass.

Starscream put the piece into a side panel at his side and grinned wickedly at Prowl as he ordered, "Scrap him."

Skywarp drew his gun from subspace and aimed it at Prowl's face.

Prowl braced for the killing shot.

"Na-uh, Decepticreeps, you're s'pose ta play nice."

Rock n' Roll burst through the night sky making Prowl's audios gives off white noise. When he was able to come fully online to be aware of his surroundings, he saw Sunstreaker firing after the fleeing seekers. Jazz was kneeling by his side, grinning at him with that usual smile on his face.

"You okay, man?"

Prowl shoot his head, but regretted it as the pain from his severed crest show through his head. "Nothing that Ratchet cannot repair."

"Know why they snatched ya?" Jazz asked inspecting the wound himself even though he lacked medical skills.

"They wanted a piece of me for Margery Kayla to use her clairvoyant skills on."

Jazz whistled. "They got her? What's clairvoyant?"

Prowl shrugged and got to his feet. "Some sort of information retrieval ability possessed by very few humans. I am unsure whether it is fact or fiction, but Optimus Prime is being cautious and just now Starscream took a part of me with him for no other reason that I can ascertain other than having Margery Kayla read the piece for information."

Jazz shook his head. "Marge, wouldn't do that. The girl acts as if she's havin' PMS, but she's cool. Wouldn't help out the Decepticons . . ."

"We need to report back to Optimus Prime and let him know of the information and help him if he needs it."

* * *

Fortunately, Optimus Prime didn't need much help. For some reason, the Decepticons retreated for no reason at all. While the Autobots were relieved, he was deeply troubled.

It made no sense. They had rolled right into an ambushed, were overpowered, and from the firing shots were outgunned, but they left. Meaning they must have gotten what they came for.

There was no time to speculate further. He needed to get the Autobots to safety where they could plan their next move and Ratchet can perform any needed repairs. But first . . .

"Sideswipe, go look for Crash, but take Hound with you. He can use his tracking skills to help you."

* * *

Get away, had to get away and hide. Keep going, keep going.

Crash, for the tenth time, nearly wrapped himself around a tree as he tried to veer around another one. He screeched on brakes and stopped within a breath of the tree. He transformed believing it would be easier for him to maneuver around the trees better in robot mode.

Primus help him. He was a coward. He was weak. He couldn't keep promises to anybody. He couldn't keep his promises to Stormsaint nor could he help Margery.

"Well, well, I wonder who you are?"

Crash whirled, smacking his back into a tree. A large purple Decepticon dropped to the ground easily. Blitzwing regarded his find with a red optic glare and a wicked smile touching his lips.

Slag. Crash leaned against tree nearly uprooting it. He slid around the tree and ran for it.

He was slammed from behind being thrown forward with a great weight on his back. He managed to roll onto his back and his hands to throw off the more combat experience Decepticon.

He was easily pinned and Blitzwing took delight I the terror in these aqua optics. He dealt a powerful to Crash's jaw halting his struggles. Crash's head rocked from the blow and he moaned as his pain receptors tazed his senses.

Before Blitzwing got a chance to do more damage to Crash, a small pink plastic My Little Pony toy flew through the air and smacked him in the cheek.


	23. Repent

Just got done formating my hard drive after a pretty bad crash. Not everything is back and working

* * *

Blitzwing slowly lifted his head and turned it to regard the little girl, Jasina, who stood just at the edge of the shadowed tree line. She stood with her hand behind her back and was staring fiercely at the giant Decepticon straddling Crash. Blitzwing's optics gleamed at her and he said in a very low voice.

"Little human, do you have a glitch in your circuits?"

Jasina furrowed her brow and asked, "What's a glitch?"

Before Blitzwing could answer her or offer her a rebuke, sparkling yellow light flared up behind her. They lit up twin grinning faces and before Bliztwing could react two bottle rockets were fired toward his face. He threw up a hand and managed to block one, but the other hit its mark and penetrated the centre of his optic band.

The Decepticon howled with shock and rage, he clutched his injured optics. He was able to see, but barely. Unwisely, he yanked out the sizzling rocket, with it came bits of red glass along with his sight. He snarled with anger and frustration. He could get back to base with radar, but he needed visualization to deal with Autobots that he could hear coming.

He tried to give Crash one last punch, but in his blindness, he only punched the ground instead. He got off Crash and left the ground just as Sideswipe and Hound burst through the shaded tree line. Sideswipe transformed and got off a few shots while Hound went to Crash's side. The brown and green mech rolled onto his side, getting over his fright, but dealing with other emotions as well.

"Primus, he shoulda just destroyed me."

"Aw no, don't say that. Get up."

"No, but just I was destroyed. Better off that way." Crash winced as Hound caught his arm.

"Crash, it's okay. Sometimes I think it's smarter to run from a battle like that, when the odds were stacked against us."

Crash shrugged his arm out of Hound's grasp and looked at green Autobot. "Then why was I the only to run?"

"Lots of reasons, Crash. For one, we know that if we start running away from the Decepticons, we'll never stop running, so we don't start. Also, we trust Optimus Prime to get us through the worst the Decepticons can throw at us. It's not something I can explain in words, but trust me, you're not the first to run and you won't be the last."

"Hey! Scaredy Cat!" A voice piped and Freda stepped forward. "We saved your ass, we own you now."

Crash groaned and covered his face with his hands. "Now I wish he really had destroyed me."

Hound stared at the kids. "How did you guys get here? Where's Powerglide?"

"Where's Margery?" Crash leaned forward toward.

"They went to get Mar-germy's grandma!" Jasina volunteered.

"How long ago?" Crash pleaded.

"Yesterday!"

"Wait! We need to get outta here first." Hound said shaking his head. "There's no telling if there's more Decepticons around or Blitzwing went out to get backup. Crash, can you travel?"

Crash didn't want to go back and face the others. What right did he have to go back to them now? He ran, fired a few shots and ran. Then what about Margery? He wanted nothing more to grab one of those kids and fire question after question of where Margery was, how she was when they last saw her, and if she was wounded, hurt, or whatever could happen to a human.

He got to his feet and suddenly his shoulder was grabbed and a black fist busted him in the lip components. He hit the ground hard and looked up at Sideswipe who was standing over him with a grin on his face. Crash sat on his afterburner staring bewildered at whom he had supposed was a friend. Sideswipe reached down and hauled him up onto his feet. Crash backed away expecting another blow.

"Sorry, man, hada do it. Cuz if I didn't, Sunny was gonna do worse to you later on." Sideswipe shrugged. "Jes savin' ya from getting a beat down later."

Crash rubbed his aching jaw and noticed that energon had leaked from the corner of his mouth. He wiped it away and said, "If Ratchet asks, I'll say that I fell."

Sideswipe shrugged again and said, "He'll know either way."

* * *

Hound was the one to carry the kids to the pond where Crash had hid his skiff. Crash was very glad to see that everyone had survived the attack, but not everyone had escape without injury. Ratchet was soldering together one of Prowl's crests, but he looked strange with the crest tip missing. Everyone else, luckily maintain mild injuries which were easily patched up.

Crash wanted to stay in the hidden shade of the trees, but Hound was taking the kids to see Optimus Prime. He knew they had news about Margery, he could feel it in his spark. He kept his distance as much as he could, but stay near Hound carrying the kids.

If Prime was unhappy with Crash for running, he said nothing. He greeted him with a nod, with no anger or disappointment in his optics and kept his attention on the kids. They took turns giving information and would quarrel over a certain detail such as whether it was Powerglide or Margery that screamed at them for looting. Prime would patiently wait before stepping into the keep them on track of their story.

It seemed that when Powerglide detected the jamming zone, he had wanted to turn back, but Margery fearing for her grandmother had the kids force him to land. But he didn't land, he crashed and was unable to fly. Margery insisted they go to town and see about her grandmother and refused to walk out of the jamming zone to radio for help. Powerglide had had no choice, but to go with the human female to town.

"Poor, 'glide, always stuck with crazy humans females." Sideswipe commented while listening in.

The town had been ransacked, cars overturned or crashed, buildings almost destroyed, and even human bodies on the streets. Crash felt his coolants thicken at the thought of Margery willing to go into that. Why did she listen to Powerglide and come back for help? She would be safe with him in Oregon and not somewhere else where he may not find her.

"Then this giant dark blue robot flew over!" Jasina said throwing her arms skyward. "He flew over and Powerglide and Margery got scared."  
Crash's fuel pump halted for two seconds. Prime leaned forward in his kneeling position he took when Hound allowed the kids out of his driver compartment. "Did this dark blue robot do anything? Did he shoot at you or land?"

The kids shook their heads. "He went in the direction of the place Margery's grandma lives."  
Crash shook in his head and covered his optics with his palms. He already knew the rest of the story, but he listened anyway. It seemed that Prime knew the rest of the story too.

"Powerglide and Margery went in the same direction, didn't they?"

"Yeah!"

"Kids, did this dark blue robot have a face like mine?" Prime pointed at his face mask.

The kids nodded again.

"Soundwave." Prime muttered in a low tone. "Okay, kids, what happened? Did Margery and Powerglide ever come back for you?"

"We left after they left." Charlie replied. "We didn't wanna stay there anymore. So we got what we could and went back to the tree fort. We saw the flying robots head for Margery's trailer and stayed hidden until Crash got chased by the purple robot."

"Okay, kids, thanks, you've helped us a lot." Prime praised them. "I want you to wait over there with Spike . . ." Spike could be heard groaning loudly and rubbing the side of his still bruised neck. "until we figure out what we're going to do next." Prime looked up at Crash who was staring at his feet, his aqua optics dimmed. "Crash, we still aren't sure that the Decepticons have them."

It hurt. Even after what he did, Optimus Prime was trying to ease his fears. He shook his head and said, "Knowing our luck, they have her. Primus, she's probably destroyed and we're wasting our time."

"Crash, you do not know that for sure." Prime said in a very hard tone that made Crash look up at him. "I am positive that she's alive, even if she may be in Decepticon captivity. They have gone to a lot of trouble getting her to kill her now."

"What about Powerglide?"

"We can only hope he's functioning."

"What do we do now?"

"We get your comlink and gain communication with Team B and get out of here fast. The Decepticons will surely regroup and come back." Optimus turned away from him and started giving out orders. Jazz and Crash would go down to get the comlink while Hound and Bumblebee would seek out a safe place for them to stay until they regain communication and allow Ratchet to finish any needed repairs on everyone.

Before Crash could start for the pond, his shoulder was seized and he was whipped around to come face to face with Sunstreaker's beautiful features. Beautiful angry features. His gold fist was rearing back for a swing, but it was caught by a black hand.

Sunstreaker twisted his head to face his brother, his optics almost white with anger. "Sides . . . "

"I already took care of it, Sunny."

Sunstreaker's features relaxed and he cocked his optic ridge at him. "Already taken care of?"

"Yeah."

Sunstreak shoved Crash away from him and stalked away. Crash watched him leave, his frame shaking as he realized what Sideswipe had meant earlier.

* * *

Margery was jolted awake when Rumble slapped the metal bars. She blinked her eyes and shifted and groaned as pain lanced through her body. It was as if her body was nothing was pain. God, it hurt to move her head. She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth as the pain reached it intensity and slowly subsided.

"Get up, Megatron wants ya."

She opened her eyes to see Rumble opening the cage door and stepping inside. She groaned again, dreading what she knew was coming. Her shoulder was grabbed roughly and she was hauled up. Then before she knew it, she vomited.

Rumble leaped out of the way and she leaned halfway off the bed and expelled the bread she had eaten earlier. Rumble made a noise of deep disgust when she finished and spat out the remaining tidbits in her mouth.

"I am NOT cleaning this up." Rumble growled. "You did this on purpose!"

She wiped her mouth with her sleeve and swallowed the remaining bile. "Yeah, I love puking my guts out. I need my stuff."

"C'mon." Rumble snarled at her as he grabbed her by the back of her shirt and half carried and half dragged her off the bed. Her socked foot nearly slipping into the mess on the floor.

She fell to her knees and was dragged several feet across the floor. She kicked her legs to get to her feet and her knees were banged against the bottom edge of the cage's doorway as she was hauled out. Soundwave was waiting with hand down palm up on the table. She was nearly tossed onto his hand and the fingers closed around her waist and lifted her up.

She didn't bother struggling, she wasn't in the mood to do so. She felt better after throwing up, like she got something bad out doing so, but she still felt bad and the worse this was . . . She knew it was only going to get worse.

Soundwave carried her out of the room and she shifted to see where they were going. Rumble said something about Megatron wanting her, which sent chills down her spine. She looked up at Soundwave and demanded, "What does Megatron want with me now?"

Soundwave didn't answer her, but Rumble, who was flying behind them, gave her an answer. "Megatron's got another part for ya to read."

Oh no.

This time she did find energy to struggle fruitlessly against Soundwave's hand. "No. No! You ain't puttin' me through that again! Put me down! Dammit!" Soundwave's grip only tightened enough for it to squeeze the air out of her and she stilled and referred to begging. "Please, don't do that thing to me again. Please, don't. I can't take that again . . . Please, I'll clean up the mess I made, just don't go into my head again."

Her pleas fail on none functioning audios and Soundwave opened the door which revealed Megatron standing near a table with a red metal piece laid. Damn, this was really going to happen. Soundwave carried her to the table and set her down. Her legs were unable to hold her weight, so she sank to the ground on her knees.

Megatron fixed her with a hard gaze along with a thin grin. "I have need of your 'assistance' human."

She shuddered and wondered what the hell she could do to get out of this. Take a leap off the table? Fat chance, she could break both legs or break her neck and die . . . Dying doesn't sound like a bad idea right now. Too late, Megatron flecked the piece toward her and she cringed away from it as it skidded to a slow stop a foot away from her.

There was a long pause with her doing nothing while the metal giants watching her. She stared at the piece with dread and planted both hands, gloved and ungloved, on her knees and inhaled and exhaled deeply through her nose. She couldn't move, she wouldn't move, but she knew, like someone who sees a speeding truck coming their way, that the impact was going to come and there was nothing she could do to prevent it.

Megatron leaned forward, both hands firmly planted on the table. "Human, I am loosing my patience with you."

She swallowed and had to ask, just had to know. "If . . . If I go through this . . . Will I get my . . . Drugs back?"

"No." Megatron snapped. "The chemicals stop your clairvoyance and will eventually deactivate you. I want you functioning as long as possible until you abilities have been used to our advantage or we discover how to mimic them for ourselves."

She swallowed and her muscles ached as if telling her what was going to happen if she didn't get her drugs back. "Please, I'm sick. Look at me. I'm shaking, I threw up, my body hurts . . .just a little bit. Just enough to keep me from hurting . . ."

Megatron ignored her. He looked up at Soundwave and said, "Do it."

She knew what he meant and she choked on a helpless sob. Rumble landed on the land next to her and grabbed her shoulders. It hurt her back and arms and she knew that it would make everything worse by struggling. She had no choice. She closed her eyes and took it and it was the most painful bitter pill for her to swallow.

But she did take pride in one thing. It took two giant robots and a man size one and while she was suffering from withdrawal to get them to bend to their will like this. She even gave a weak smile before Rumble pressed her bare hand again the red piece and thought when I get through this withdrawal . . . If I live through it . . . Then I'm going to give them hell or die trying.

The visions contained memories of the insides of the Ark, parts she hadn't seen before. It was especially filled with tactics, battle tactics that were hard for her to comprehend, but Soundwave did just fine as he access them through her.

It had felt the same way. Being shoved backwards through a narrow pipe and Soundwave's powerful presence all around her. She didn't try to 'speak' to him for fear of hearing that deafening 'voice' again. She realized that it hurt less and felt less invasive if she didn't struggle against him, sadly, like physical rape. Except there was no pleasure for any of them.

She very lightly, gently, and timidly, _touched _the bulking force of Soundwave with a thin mental _finger. _It was like poking a tiger in the side to see what it would do. Soundwave didn't like going into an inferior human's mind and he wanted nothing more than to take it and break it, crush it, melt it away like a snow flake over an open inferno. Leave her nothing, but a husk because this human had gotten the better of him back on the human transportation line and it wasn't on purpose, but it was by _accident_. And that was where the pride was wounded.

He was one of the most powerful telepaths of the Decepticon Empire and not only that, he was an a mech of many talents and abilities and had the efficiency to earn him third in command of the Decepticon Empire. And . . .THE HUMAN WAS READING **HIM!**

She received a mental slap that sent her mental image reeling. She had poked the tiger and it had slapped her with its mighty claws. If it had been a physical blow it would have crushed bones and torn her body apart. She recovered slowly and painfully, knowing that this was another ache to add to the long list of aches and pains she had on her body and mind. She did manage to recover in time to _see _Soundwave put up mental shields between him and her, shields that he had not thought he had needed while carousing inside her head.

Another flower of pride bloom. She had yet again mentally gotten the better of Soundwave, but she knew that these were few and far in between and more then less likely wouldn't happen again.

It ended. Soundwave downloaded the information to his memory data and released her from his hold. She was able to see with her physical eyes and feel that Rumble had released her hand and she slowly drew it back to her side. Soundwave sending a copy of the data to Megatron who was gleaming with pleasure.

The information contained secret locales of oil rigs, power plants across third world countries, not to mention sensitive information, Tele-traan 1 codes and passwords, and some hidden energon and weaponry storages back on Cybertron where Megatron would never have imagine to look. Shockwave would be pleased to attain this information too.

"Well done, Soundwave. Human, this is enough for me to forgive you for your earlier transgressions." Megatron even gave her a smile and she felt nothing, but fatigue and exhaustion. Not to mention her head was still reeling from Soundwave's mental blow and her body was hurting from withdrawal. She wanted to be taken back to her cage and lie down on the foam. She didn't hear the conversation about her going on overhead.

"She won't be available for the next two to three cycles of this planet?"

"Affirmative. Withdrawal from chemicals violent during this time. Her abilities possibly dampened for the duration."

Megatron rubbed his chin. "Fine then, we can use what we have, but I want her monitored until she survives this 'withdrawal'. Afterwards, I want her taken to Cybertron for safekeeping. Once the Autobots discover we have one of their precious humans, they'll make annoying attempts to get her back. Also, get in touch with that organic scientist . . . What was his name?"  
"Triggerflex."

"Yes, contact him. I believe he's working under Duskdawn on planet Haven. Have him give you information on extending the functionality of the clairvoyant and see if perhaps we can duplicate her ability either cloning or technological. Better yet, have him come to Cybertron to see her for himself."

Soundwave wasn't very happy about this. To him, this situates that Megatron did believe him to be incapable of keeping a human alive. Secondly, Triggerflex was a neutral who had thus far kept out of the combat side of the military, but only because for some reason Duskdawn sees use for him and thus requests that Triggerflex remain under his command. And seeing how much energon Duskdawn is able to supply from the planet he had conquered, Megatron wasn't willing to go into the trouble over a neutral mini-bot who likes to study organics.

"As you command, Megatron."

For the very first time, Margery was relieved when Soundwave picked her up and carried her back to her cage.

* * *

Hound had found a very secluded abandoned barn thirty miles west of the pond. The barn looked like it would collapse on them at any second, but it was the safest spot they could be under the circumstances. Ratchet was able to finish up repairs while Prowl fiddled with Crash's comlink and managed to contact the Ark. They were finally able to complete their first goal by having contact with Team B.

Now that was taken care of, they can finally get down to the business they had come to take care of. Number one, they now knew that the Decepticons had taken over this part of south Alabama. Why? They weren't really that sure. They seemed to have gone through a lot of trouble to kidnap one human, no matter how much of use she could be to them.

Which only left one thing, they had another plan going on meanwhile. But what? There was no major power plants, except for the power plant near Gantt that used the river as an energy source. No doubt, that would be a good place as any to scout. Bumblebee and Hound were given this job and set out with strict orders not to engage with any Decepticon activities.

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker along with Jazz and Crash were sent out to Fairing Well to see if maybe, Margery or Powerglide was still there or any survivors. Crash went after begging Prime to allow him to go and telling them that he knew where the nursing home was because he had dropped Margery off there once before. This however was met with resistance from Sunstreaker, but he was overruled by Jazz and Sideswipe.

Thus they were nearing the nursing home. Crash stared in horror at the three side building and how he was able to look inside and see the small furniture. Jazz whistled through his vocaliser and shook in his head. Sometimes it surprised him at how destructive Decepticons could be, especially to small human buildings.

"Crash, man, I don't think Margery or Powerglide hung out here long."

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe kept look out while Crash and Jazz looked around for any clues or whereabouts of Margery or Powerglide.

Crash stood back away from the ruined building and shook his head. "I know she came here. I know she did."

"I'm sure she did too, but she ain't here now." Jazz took one last look around. "Let's think of where they would boogie to next."

Again, Crash shook his head. "I don't know. I . . . I don't know where Margery would go next."

"But I know where Powerglide would go next." Jazz snapped his fingers. "He'd tried to get out of the jamming zone and contact the Ark."

Crash clenched his fist in frustration. "But obviously they didn't do that or couldn't do that because no one called yesterday."

"Chill out, Crash, we'll find 'em. We jes gotta figger out which way they went. 'glide woulda gone back for the kids, so let's back to the place the kids said they were lootin'."  
Crash felt a little hopeful, but that was quickly dashed when they found no more than they did at the nursing home. He felt like a part of himself was lost and finding it was no longer possible. He was on the verge of a panic and he knew that if he started panicking then nothing will get done and he would have wasted energy and time.

Jazz did a quick scan and said, "It doesn't show whether they came through here or not."

Crash had to put his vocaliser offline to keep from going 'no duh'.

"No duh!" Sunstreaker snapped for him.

Jazz ignored him and continued inspecting the area before he froze. "Slag, tell me those aren't jet engines comin' our way?"

"Alright, I won't." Sideswipe replied as he dashed for cover behind the store the kids had looted. Sunstreaker grimaced, hating to hide from an enemy, but followed his twin anyway.

"Let's scat, cat." Jazz grabbed Crash's arm and towed him toward the back of the building.

Crash crouched with the Autobots beside a large ugly green dumpster. Jazz stayed close to the edge and take quick glances around the corner. He watch Skywarp and Thundercracker transformer and land on the pavement. No doubt, they were scouting for any Autobots.

He whispered softly, "Skywarp and Thundercracker scopin' out for Autobots."

Crash's optics widen in shock. "Skywarp and Thundercracker? Are they here?"

"SHHHHH!" Sideswipe hissed at him. "Yeah, they've BEEN here along with Starscream . . ."

"STARSCREAM?"

This time he was whapped on the back of the helmet by Sunstreaker. He winced and rubbed the back of his slightly dented helmet.

Jazz whispered, "You know them jokers?"

"No, I've seen 'em, but never talked with 'em." Crash whispered back. "I can get 'em to leave."

"What? Go out shooting at 'em?" Sunstreaker hissed.

"No." Crash said calmly. "I'll tell them to leave."

Before any of the Autobots could respond, Crash turned on his field generator and spirals of pixels and color swarm around the mech and Crash was no longer sitting with them. Starscream got to his feet and whispered, "I'll be right back."

He stepped over Jazz's legs and walked around the corner to meet the Decepticons.

* * *

Skywarp whipped around, gun ready in hand, when the noise startled him. He was even more startled to see Starscream step around the corner of a what looked like a human store.

"Starscream? I thought Megatron had you supervising the plant." Skywarp lowered his gun.

Starscream had his arms crossed over his chest and his red optics glared at him. "Your optics must be malfunctioning because I'm standing right here in front of you."

Skywarp subspaced his gun and cocked his head at his commander. "Excuse me. I didn't expect to see you here."

"I'm here to ask you if Megatron has attained his little pet human." Starscream snapped as if Skywarp had insulted him.

"You should know. You were the one handed her over to Soundwave." Skywarp replied, keeping a cool tone, not wanting to send Starscream into a tirade of disrespect for a superior officer.

"I was asking incase Soundwave looses her! I don't want to take the blame for something someone else did!"

Thundercracker approached closer from behind Skywarp. His head was tilted and he was watching Starscream carefully. Something wasn't sitting right with his processor. There was something about Starscream that wasn't Starscream.

"And how is Megatron's little plan going? Has it failed yet? I bet it has, slag that idiot!"

It wasn't unusual for Starscream to predict gloom and doom about Megatron's plans, but something was strange about this tirade. Something just wasn't right. "The laser satellite will be complete soon and the Constructicons are going to launch it within five megacycles."

Starscream's jaw dropped and he gawped at Skywap who stared at him stunned. He was about to ask what was wrong, but Starscream recovered.

"I'm surprised they're more than halfway finished. Go back to the laser and make sure they get it done right!"

"But Megatron ordered us to scout this area. The Autobots could . . ."

"I'm ORDERING you to go to the laser and make sure they get it done right!"

"How are we suppose to make sure they get it done right? They're the mechanic! We're seekers, we . . ."

"GEONOUTTAERE!"

Thundercracker and Skywarp blinked. "What did he say?"  
"Geonouttaere? What is that?"

"Get the slag out of here!" Starscream corrected. "Now get! Get on! Go! Leave! Go to the laser! Slag! A dog understand better then you!"

Thundercracker and Skywarp quickly left the ground and obeyed. However they were both bewildered with Starscream's unexplainable behavior. It wasn't unusual for him to try to undermine Megatron by changing orders, but he usually didn't order anything so . . .. So useless and stupid.

Crash watched them leave and waited until they were out of sight before turning off the generator field. He exhaled a sigh of relief through his intakes and turned to see Jazz and the twins come around the corner. Jazz was clapping his hands and looked very impressed. Sideswipe had a wicked grin and was giving him a thumbs up. Sunstreaker had his arms crossed, but his face didn't carry its usual scowl. He did . . .to Crash's surprise (and pleasure) looked impressed.

Crash rubbed the back of his helmet, even the dented part from Sunstreaker's earlier blow. It didn't hurt anymore and it was a spot that Sunstreaker had touched . . . Crash looked away from gold mech's beautiful angles and frame and was very much surprised at the springing emotion that started to come to him whenever he looked at Sunstreaker.

"Crash, my man," Jazz said with a broad grin on his face. "you jes made our job a whole lot easier."

This praise swept aside Crash's guilt for fleeing and he returned the grin.


	24. Undercover

Jazz knew it was a bad idea, but he was overruled by three mechs. He wanted to save Powerglide too, but sending Crash in to go solo was just wrong. Even though the kid was confidant he could pull it off, Jazz just didn't feel right sending someone with inexperience to go in and do what could be considered a suicide mission.

Earlier, Jazz radioed Optimus Prime and gave him the info that Crash had obtained from Skywarp and Thundercracker's own vocalisers. Optimus had been surprised and very relieved to receive these pieces of information. It made their job very much easier and made their goals easier to plan.

Just at that time, Hound and Bumblebee returned with news that the power plant held human slaves with the Coneheads standing as overseers. Prime wanted to free the humans first before heading for the where the laser could be located, if one could trust the direction the Seekers took.

"A'ight, Prime, but Crash here is itchin' to go after those Seekers." Jazz replied taking a look at Crash's begging frame as he stood close with shaking hands.

"We can't risk it. If we attack, then the Coneheads will likely take the humans hostage. We have to put their safety first before we can."

Crash motioned at Jazz and the saboteur gestured for him to be still and let him talk. "Crash thinks that he can infiltrated the Decepticon base down south and see if they got Margery or Powerglide. If the 'creeps got 'em, then he wants to try and free those jail birds."

"Negative." Prime replied sharply. "I know Crash is skilled and he did manage to obtain sensitive information, but he is not trained in combat or handling Decepticon hostility. If you must, you can scout the area, but do not attempt to infiltrate any base you come across."

Crash clenched his fists. "But what if they have Margery?"

Prime's voice came over calmly and clearly, and somehow soothing. "Since Margery is one of their targets, I doubt they'll harm her, but we will try to save her as soon as we can."

Crash wrung his hands wanting to shout, to shake something until somebody agreed that they should go after Margery. It terrified and sicken him to think of creature as small and frail as Margery was to his optics to be under brutal Decepticon captivity. They were never known for their compassion toward other races.

Jazz signed off from Optimus Prime and studied Crash. "I know how down ya feel. These jokers may Powerglide too, but it won't help him much if we charge in or sneak in without a better plan."

Crash nodded, but he felt as if he was very away from Jazz, the town, the continent, and the planet. It had been years since he felt this helpless and useless. The feel of accomplishment over getting the info from the Seekers slowly died down within him to give way to the dreaded wash of pain that Jazz's words couldn't help.

He allowed Jazz to arrange the scouting mission without further insistence of going in with a disguise.

However, that changed when they manage to come across the launch area of the satellite weapon. They stayed within the thick foliage of trees on a nearby hill that almost overlooked the whole area. Jazz used his visor to scope the moving figures in the distance and whistled.

"The Constructicons got somethin' cookin' down there and that ain't all I see. I see Powerglide."

"How is he?" Sideswipe asked.

"He ain't stylin', but he's functioning."

"I can . . ." Crash started.

"Crash, my man, Prime said no way."

"No, listen to me." Crash stepped forward hand outward palms up as if begging for a handout. "I can go in, not to free Powerglide, but to ask him where they are keeping Margery . . ."

Sunstreaker made a noise of disgust from his place of leaning against a rather large oak. "That's all he cares about is his human pet."

That stung. Okay, he won't deny that he hadn't given Powerglide much thought, but the fact was that Margery wasn't an Autobot. She couldn't fight, couldn't protect herself, her body was frail compared to a Cybertronian's, and her internal repairs wasn't up to dealing with any severe damage she could receive. So yeah, he was more concerned about Margery than he was about Powerglide and he was about to tell Sunstreaker so even though he looked almost like a sun in the dim shade of the canopy.

Before he could start up his vocaliser to say so, Sideswipe stepped in. "Cool it, bro. It's a good idea."

"Waitaminute. Are ya'll forgettin' what Prime said. He said not to go in!"

"He said not to infiltrate any base we see. Powerglide is outside the base." Sideswipe said with a grin. "All Crash is gonna do is walk over to Powerglide and ask him a few questions. Like where they're keeping Margery, how that laser works, and so on . . . I mean, look, Powerglide has so far had a front row seat to it all."

Jazz shook his head. "I agree, but we can't go against an order. We jes sit tight until . . ."

"I say we go for it." Sunstreaker pushed himself away from the tree. "Let Crash go in, ask Powerglide about the weapon and any guards that may be posted. And about his pet if he really has to."

"Its an in and out job." Sideswipe clapped Crash on the shoulder hard enough to nearly making him stumble under the sudden weight. "Crash can do it."

Jazz again shook his head. "Guys, this ain't cool gangin' up on me."

"What? You can't expect us to just stand by while those Decepticons got Powerglide right there in front of us." Sideswipe looked mockingly abhorred.

Jazz threw up his hands. "A'right, turkeys, but I wanna set this straight on the line. This ain't a good idea. I'm sayin' that this is disobeying Prime and if this plan goes screwy our afts have had it."

"I won't screw up." Crash promised. "I've . . . I've done this before . . . many times, I'm not proud of that . . . " Crash quickly veered the topic off to the business at hand. "I could try to go as Starscream again, but if he was suppose to stay at the plant and he shows up over there, I don't know, he'd get yelled at or something. I don't want to attract that sort of attention. I need somebody that can walk out there and nobody would question it."

Jazz shook his head, but gave in and scoped out the area. "I see all of the Constructicons, of course, Skywarp and Thundercraker are there. I'm sure Megatron or Soundwave is lurking around somewhere. I don't see any of the Coneheads though . . ."

"No, it's gotta be somebody I seen before . . . Wait, I know . . ." Crash powered up his generator field and the next three seconds, Blitzwing was standing with them.

Sunstreaker's hand reflexively pulled his gun from subspace before he froze with realization and subspaced it back. Crash, with Blitzwing's face, gave him a sheepish grin and spoke with Blitzwing's voice, "I shoulda gave ya more warning."

Sideswipe grinned. "This is unnerving as hell."

Even Jazz had to fight the urge to point his gun at Crash. "I ain't never gonna get use to seein' this."

It was unnerving for the Autobots to see Blitzwing, an enemy that they had fought and had shot on sight, standing among them without a gun in hand and with an uncomfortable grin on his face. It made him Blitzwing, yet not Blitzwing at all.

"Get movin' before I loose it and shoot you." Sunstreaker waved him away.

"Yeah . . .uh . . .good idea." Even Crash was finding the eerie stares from the Autobots unnerving. "I'll be back when I get back."

It was easier to walk to the base than it was to sneak on without anyone looking. It would look strange for a Decepticon to walk onto an area and not fly in and land. When he was finally able to enter the area without any Decepticon noticing, he made his way toward where Powerglide lay hurt surrounded by a barrier field.

_Just keep going. Walk like you're suppose to be here, walk like you have something important to do. Don't rush, don't look around, that draws attention and looks suspicious. Be calm, you done this before. Be calm._

He made his way closer and closer to Powerglide. The Constucticons, the purple and green Decepticons, were working around the laser. Skywarp and Thundercracker were nearby speaking with each other. They must be friends or Companions.

No one else was around.

Check the control on the barrier field.

Just checking the power levels.

Right.

Crash knelt by the generator and looked at the readings. He even touched the switches as if he was making adjustments. Powerglide was on his side and wasn't looking very well. The tips from both his wings were missing and energon oozed from them. His blue optics were dimmed, but they focused on him with rage and hate.

Crash took one quick glance around and whispered very low in his vocaliser. "Ever locked Ratchet out of his repair bay and threaten him with his own tools?"

Powerglide's optics flared to life. "Wha . . .? How did . . . ?"

"It's me. Crash." Crash whispered, his optics were on the working group. He watched for any that might take notice of them or show interest. "Don't stare at me. Just look at the ground and ignore me or better yet, glare at me."

"Primus . . ." Powerglide hissed in disbelief. "Hearin' about it and seein' is two different things . . ."

Crash glanced up. Luckily, nobody was interested in his doings. "I don't have much time. Where's Margery?"

"They got her."

Crash had the feeling the Decepticons had taken her prisoner, but to have to affirmed still turned his systems over. "Where?"

"I dunno. Soundwave showed up with her yesterday and took her inside there." Powerglide didn't have to motion at the small shed for Crash to know what he meant. "They were in there for almost twenty minutes, then he came back out with her and took off."

"How . . ."

"She looked fine, but scared. Very scared."

"Do you . . ."

"Shh. Seekers coming out way."

Crash looked up and saw Skywarp and Thundercracker approaching him. He quickly stood and forced himself not to run. If he ran or tried to hide, anything that brought suspicion to himself, it would bring him down. Remember all the years he had done thing. Just remember . . .

He stood relaxed and pose. He was suppose to be here. He was doing his job, but he was curious to see why the Seekers were coming to see him.

"Blitz, ya got an astro . . ."

It was the blue one that spoke. He gave the speaker a tilt of the head and replied, "Maybe."

"You know what the frag crawled up Starscream's afterburner? He fritzed at us and gave us this useless order to come here, you won't believe it, come here and make sure the Constructicons were doing their job right."

Crash had to fight to keep from nodding. He widen his optics in surprise because this would be news for the real Blitzwing. "Really?"

"Yeah and he sounded weird too. Looked nervous and he said, I quote, 'geonouttaere."

Crash wanted to kick himself for using that word too freely. He widen his optics in surprise and confusion with some disbelief thrown in. "A human word?"

"Must be." Skywarp giggled. "I know it ain't any 'upperclass' Cybtertronian I ever heard."

Thundercracker eyed the energy bond controls that Crash/Blitzwing had been pretending to adjust. "How is it?"

"Fine, just fine." Crash/Blitzwing replied quickly. "I gotta get back on my shift."

"Which shift?" Thundercracker inquired.

"Guard?" Crash/Blitzwing tried.

"Guarding what?" Thundercracker eyeing the false Decepticon.

Crash thought quickly. "The border."

"Which side?" Thundercracker stepped closer eyeing Crash/Blitzwing closely. "East, West, North, or South?"

He had a one in four chance. "North."

"No wonder you're looking all slagged out. Stunticons were last reported up there fragging around."

Crash/Blitzwing nodded. "Yeah, they have been giving us nothing, but grief up North."

"Wrong." Skywarp snapped up his gun with the barrel pointed directly at Crash/Blitzwing's head. Thundercracker's soon followed. "Stunticons are south chasing the cows."

Crash/Blitzwing threw up his hands as if either of the Seekers said to stick 'em up. "Uhhh . . .wait. . . .I can . . .I can . . ."

"Can nothing!" Skywarp jerked the gun at him. "Who are you and . . . "

Crash dropped the disguise as he transformed. Before the Seekers knew it, a little brown and green car was hiking between their legs and was ripping up soil as his tires carried him away. Seekers glanced at each other only once, before dashing around to transform and follow. Thundercracker radioed the alert.

"Ya'll." Jazz moaned as he stared through zoom viewfinder at the site. The sight of twin jets slipped through the distance tops of the trees. "Ya'll, the plan jes went up in smoke."

"Aw SLAG!" Sideswipe muttered. "Let's go."

"Oh slag, oh slag, oh slag, oh slag." Crash huffed as his tires threw up grass and wet soil behind him as he glided between the trees. "I'm gonna get destroyed, deactivated, put offline permanently."

He skidded to the left as grass he had just been rolling on was peppered with strips of purple. He scrapped against a tree, knocking off his side mirror in the process and sending a sharp shock of pain through his side. He nearly crashed into a tree before him before transforming and rebounding off it. He ran, scooting between the trees.

The only cover he had was the canopy and his zigzagging through the trees irritated Skywarp and Thundercracker to no end. Until Crash ran through a clearing . . .

Crash caught a glimpse of purple in the air next to him, before his shoulder was caught and he was swung around to face the grinning faceplate of Skywarp.

"What do we have here?" Skywarp taunted easily shoving Crash around to grasp his wrists from behind with one hand and tucking his free arm against the smaller mech's throat. "See an Autobot brand, TC?"

Thundercracker landed easily and stepped over. "No, none that I see. Neutral?"

It took Crash a moment to realize that the question was directed at him. "Ye . . .yes."

"Then what were you doing on Decepticon turf?" Thundercracker questioned eyeing him. He took in the ugly battered and chipped paint job, no apparent weapons, and Crash's terror filled aqua optics. "What exactly were you doing on a Decepticon base?"

"I don't know," was all Crash could think of as a response.

This was rewarded with a sharp punch to the mid-torso by Thundercracker. "Then find out."

Crash sagged in Skywarp's grip and the Seeker yanked up on the smaller mech's body making him grunt from pain.

Thundercrack switched on his comlink. "Thundercrack to base, we have the intruder. It's not an Autobot, it's a neutral. Waiting for orders."

Aw slag, he was in for it now.

It hurt. It was hurting her so bad she almost wanted to die.

Sweat clung to her face and loose strands of dark hair stuck to like fine webbing. A tremor bled through her body and she clung to the foam beneath her. She pressed the heels of her hands over her eyes to block out the abusive light overhead.

Soundwave tilted his head watching the human writhe on the foam cot as pain reverberated through her body. Rumble had set a small container next to her cot for her to eject her refuse into. She had succeeded in eject the refuse into the container three times, but the times afterward she would only eject this clear saliva. The human possibly had no more fuel to eject from her systems.

He pondered on whether he should attempt to refuel her. Her system could eject whatever entered into her system and thus preventing her systems from keeping energy. He estimated that Margery Kayla could sustain herself for 72 hours without food. Water was set aside for her in the container and that he will refresh each day being that the human body consists mostly of water and that water needed to be replenished regularly.

After 72 hours he would see about refueling. Till then she could be carefully monitored and kept restrained inside the cage. During this time, when she is too preoccupied with her body to cause much resistance or problems, she will be transported to Cybertron as Megatron requested.

Margery didn't know of these plans. She was too busy attempted to puke her guts out again into the metal container set by her foam.

Powerglide now had some company with him in his force shield cage. Crash looked none the worse after Skywarp and Thundercracker's tender mercies. They had thrown him face down beside Powerglide who instantly checked him over for injuries and disrepair.

"You okay?" Powerglide whispered gently.

"No." Crash whimpered and shifted his legs.

"Hey, don't move, don't move." Powerglide grasped his shoulders. "You might injure yourself worse if you got internal injuries."

Crash gave up and rested back onto the ground with Powerglide's hands gently probing his external injuries carefully.

"You seem alright, just beaten up. Recharge and give your repair function time to fix anything going inside. I'll keep watch out and wake ya up if anything happens."

With this, Crash readily drifted off into sweet oblivion of recharge.


	25. Aftermath

"Get up! Slaggit, come online already!"

The first sensation she felt was the dull throb in her temples as she painstakingly opened her eyes. The light seared them and she winced, shutting her eyes tightly to block out the offensive light.

A hard hand on her arm yanked her up, hurting her. She yelped as her body was forced to sit up. Something metallic was shoved into her gloved hand and she clutched it. She forced her eyes to open a bit through tight slits. Was she holding a soup can?

"Refuel already! Slag! Hurry up! I ain't feeding it to you!"

Margery groaned. Her body ached and she felt so tired, completely drained despite the obvious long sleep she had. She was slowly coming around, but much to the irritation to the owner of the grating voice.

Rumble stared at the human femme agitated. He was certain that she was doing this just to frag him off. He gave her another rough shake that rattled her teeth.

Margery blinked her eyes, they were fortunately adjusting to the light and she was able to see that she was really holding a cap of vegetable beef soup. There was an opening clip at the top of which she fumbled with, her fingers still not quite awake.

Rumble uttered a sound of pure impatience and annoyance and yanked the can from her hand, ripped the clip up, tearing open the can as if it was tissue paper, and thrust it back into her palm. "REFUEL ALEADY!"

Margery hated cold soup, but she wasn't about to push anymore buttons with a robot that could tear about a soup can. She held it careful to her mouth and gingerly poured the contents between her lips.

As soon as the food touched her tongue, she realized that she was starving. Without thinking about it, she drained the can, nearly letting some dribble down her chin. She lowered the can from her mouth and took in gulping breaths. "Is . . .there . . .?"

Rumble rolled his optics and held out another can, which she snatched, from his hand. This time she was able to open it herself. She made herself eat slowly and not choke herself this time. She swallowed the soup and took in her surroundings.

She was still in her cage, but in a different room. It wasn't a work room, it looked like a bedroom. On the far side was berth that resembled Crash's back at the Ark, but it looked nicer somehow in a way she couldn't put her finger on, better design perhaps. Her cage was on a something that she would call a desk. She could make out drawers and compartments down one side.

And sitting at the edge of the desk, back straight in a large chair, was none other than Soundwave. He watched her with unreadable optics and a faceplate that revealed nothing. His presence created an eerie shadow over her, but not just physically speaking.

Margery watched him warily over the lid of her can. "What's going on?"

Her voice sounded hoarse and her throat felt strained when she spoke. Now that she was finally waking up more, she was noticing things about herself. She felt dirty. Not like she had been rolling in mud, but that she hadn't bathe in a while. Her hair hung in oily strands about her face and she could catch a whiff of BO from herself. The font of her shirt and jacket was soiled from dried vomit and she peeled off the jacket and dropped it onto the floor. Damn, she needed a bath . . .how long had she been out?

"You got a busy day today." Rumble held a hint of a smile on his lip components. "Soundwave wants to run some tests, you get to take a bath, and you got a doctor's appointment."

Margery only liked one of those three events. She gulped down the rest of the soup and set it on the floor next to her cot. "How long was I out?"

Rumble turned his face toward Soundwave for a second. Silent permission was given and Rumble turned back to her. "Seven terracycles."

"How long is a terracycle?" Margery asked dryly.

"Wouldn't you like to know." Rumble gave her a nasty smile.

"Fuck you."

"Big mouth glitch!"

"Seven days." A monotone voice halted the returning insult Margery was creating for Rumble from being flung. He wasn't answering her question. He was halting a fight and was trying to have her finish eating so they can go about their plans for the day.

Seven days? Shit, she had been out for seven days. She remembered getting sick and getting worse and worse. Her body was in pain, it had been hard to breath, she vomited, and tremors jolted her awake constantly. Was she better now?

She felt a hell of a lot better than she did then, but her body still hurt. Her body still wanted heroin and she wanted heroin. However, the worse was over, she suppose, and it felt like it had been one very bad and disturbing nightmare. Or maybe it wasn't over. Maybe her body was in recovery mode and was staving off the pain and sickness so she could eat, rest, and bathe.

Her situation didn't change much. She was still kept in a cage by giant robots and she couldn't help, but get the tingling feeling that things had just gotten worse for her, but how?

"Finish eating already? Sheesh! I can refuel in third the time you take!" Rumble chided her and this caused her only to carefully and slowly the last bit of soup from the can and politely ask for a third.

After the third can, Soundwave either determined that she was full or he didn't want to give her a chance to request for a fourth serving, stood and open the cage. He reached inside with an open hand. Rumble caught her arm as if expecting resistance and Soundwave's fingers curled around her torso and gently pulled her off the cot. Margery didn't resist or attempt to struggle free. She knew she had no way of escaping, her last attempt showed her that, and plus she wanted to take a bath.

Soundwave carried out of the room. Rumble alighted easily on Soundwave's shoulder. Margery ignored the measuring look from Rumble and was glancing around about her. Something was different about the area they were in. It wasn't the hallway of the battleship Nemesis, but somewhere else. But where?

It was possible that the Decepticons had a second base or building. No, it was something different. Maybe it was her clairvoyance being annoying or maybe it was natural sixth sense, but she saw what was bothering her when Soundwave approached a door and it hissed opened.

The cooler air told her they were going outside. What she saw outside made her heart skip a beat. The shock hit her so hard it sent prickles up her arms and made her ears fill with ice.

The countless sky reaching metallic building worshiped the night sky. Dim lights gave the source of light along with unfamiliar stars that peppered the blackness above and around them. Metal railways and road were stretched from building to building like hanging bridges. Everything was metal, no grass, dirt, soil, or insects could be seen, smelled, or heard.

Her mind tried to deny it. She tried to reason that they weren't where she knew in her heart they were. She had heard the description from Autobot interviews and now she was looking it. Cybertron.

"Aw shit."

Everything was bitter darkness. He could make distance speaking echoing back into his cranial core. He couldn't make it out or understand it at all. He was rising up. No, he wanted to stay down. Rising up brought pain and unbalancing tilt to his world,

"Crash . . .come on, kid, say something."

Crash? Who was Crash? Wait . . ..Crash was him.

The pain was in his body, but it was dampened slightly. Somebody turned down his pain receptors. His optics came on time with a painful flick. He could see a large white mech hovering over him with a scanner in hand.

"How you feelin', son?" The white mech asked reading the scanner's results.

"Hurts . . ." Crash whispered.

"I know, kid, I know." The large white mech held a pained look that looked out of place on his faceplate. Why? Crash didn't know or couldn't remember. "I'm sorry, but I just need to run a few tests and I'll put you back under."

Crash looked up at the high overhead light. "Wha . . .wha . . .ap . . .pen?"

"You got beat up pretty bad by none other than Megatron himself." The white mech explained making adjustments to a machine. "Sideswipe was the one to pull him off you. Nearly got torn to pieces like you, but Prime and the AerialBots showed up."

The names meant nothing to him. He turned his head and then tried to sit up.

"Whoa!" The white mech touched his shoulder with a firm, but gentle grip and pushed him back down with authority. "You're not in one piece yet and I don't think you can handle seeing yourself like this."

Crash relaxed against the table, trying to put a name with the white mech. "You . . .you . . .?"

"Ratchet. Don't worry. You suffered severe head trauma and your memory banks have been temporarily shut down so your internal repairs can fix any damages attained in your cranial circuits. So far so good. I think you'll make a full recovery. You are one lucky little bastard."

Crash turned his head away to look at the far orange wall. The pain had ebb down to a tolerable level, but it irritated him that he couldn't remember. Obviously, this white mech, Ratchet, knew him well, but he couldn't remember, he just couldn't reach into his mind and pull out where he had met this mech before.

Ratchet finished recording data and put the scanner away in into subspace. He leaned over the smaller torn mech and asked, "Crash, Sideswipe has been hovering around outside my repair bay and attacking my each time I set one slaggin' foot out the door to refuel or recharge. Think you could hang on for him to say a few words to ya?"

Crash blinked wearily up at Ratchet. "Ye . . .yes. . . "

Maybe seeing another face might jog something. Ratchet nodded and said a few words in his comlink. The far doors of the repair bay slid open and footsteps approached the table.

"Okay, Sideswipe," Crash could hear Ratchet speaking in a hush and stern tone. "You got half a breem, then I'm putting him offline. He's in pain right now, so say what you got to say, quick. Don't expect him to say much, it's hard for him to talk. And don't expect him to remember you or anything that happen . . .slag, he may not even remember this."

"Okay, okay, slag, Ratchet, stop nagging." A young sounding voice soared through the repair bay.

A tall, red, handsome looking mech appeared overhead and Crash tried desperately to remember, but couldn't. Despair assailed his circuits and a soft whimper touched his vocaliser.

"Hey, hey, shhhh, it's okay . ..it oh-KAY." The red mech, Sideswipe, leaned over him offering him a surprisingly soothing goofy grin. "You're alright, you're practically in the hands of Primus himself when Ratchet's taking care of you. I should know, as many times as he put me back together."

The red mech was tenderly stroking his helm and it was lowered the level of the pain in the torn mech's head. It was calming and Crash blinked his optics up at the newcomer. "You . . .You . . ?"

"I'm Sideswipe. Sheesh, you must be the first guy to forget someone like me." Sideswipe spoke softly. "Primus, I was worried about you. Seen a lotta things in this war, lotta bad and scary things, but seein' Megatron tearing you apart like that . . .that set the bar higher in my book."

Crash studied the face of the unfamiliar mech above him. He could see the care in the mech's optics, and could feel the gentleness in his touch, and compassion in his voice. Something registered in Crash's mind, something that made sense to him. "We . . .ar . . .we . . .are . . ."

Sideswipe tilted his head concerned. "Crash, shhh, okay, you don't have to talk."

But Crash needed to ask. "ummm . . .pan. . .. neee . . .ons . . ."

Sideswipe furrowed his brow. "Crash, look, you don't have to . . ."

"Ka . . ka . . .ka. . . pa. . ons . .. "

"Ka-pan-nones?"

"Com. . . pan . . .nee . . .ons. . ."

"Companions?" Sideswipe lifted his head, his optics wide. "You want to know if we're Companions?"

Crash nodded, trying to speak exhausted him.

"No, we're not. We were friends . . ." Sideswipe cocked his head thoughtfully and stared at Crash with a different look. "But . . .ya never know . . ."

He leaned in, his face coming in close. Crash closed his optics and felt the light touch on his forehead. He bought his optics online to see Sideswipe lifted his head back. He got a gentle pat on the helm.

"Get some sleep, Crash, you're in good hands . . .if you remember this . . .we'll talk . . .if not . . .well . . ." Sideswipe shrugged. "I'll do something."

"Okay, Romeo, visiting hour is over. Get the frag out."

Then Crash was brought downward into oblivion of sleep and forgetfulness.


	26. Eventful part 1

The next room Margery was carried into made her think of the workshop her cage had remained in back on the Nemesis. It was dimly lit also and it brought an eerie chill down her spine. It had various tools on the walls and shelves. Soundwave carried her over to a long metal counter and set her down.

She wavered on her legs and held tightly onto his palm and fingers to keep from falling on her ass. Her legs felt stiff and they ached as she moved them. She lowered herself to sit and Soundwave took his hand away.

She watched that same hand reach over for a set of tools that had been laying further down the counter. Margery watched the indigo hand warily as one tool was carried over. It resembled a round magnifying glass except there was a whorl of metal in the center that grew larger and bigger at a touch of a thumb. Margery scooted backward on her bottom as Soundwave brought it closer to her.

"Hold still!" Rumble ordered her with annoyance thick in his voice.

Margery's legs were caught between thick fingers to prevent her from further backing away. The device was held close to her head and she turned her face away, only to have it caught between giant thumb and forefinger. She was forced to look up into the device and watched the metal whorl tightly into a circle the size of her face. There was a sharp flash, which seared into her eyes.

She slapped her hands over her eyes and waited for the bright circles behind her lid decrease before opening them. Soundwave was setting aside the tool, obviously finished with it and was reaching for another. This tool was short and at the end of it was tapered end. The flattened surface looked smooth and soft somehow.

"Disrobe."  
Margery looked up. "Excuse me?"  
"Disrobe."

"No . . ."

Soundwave's red optic band bore into her like a blood smear on an infant's blanket. She didn't know whether it was his telepathy or her clairvoyance, or maybe it was instinct along, but she got the message loud and clear. He was doing her the honor of allowing her to undress herself, because he was more than able to easily do it for her. And she had NO choice in the matter. Her clothes were coming off. Whether it was by her hands or his was up to her.

"Fine." She bit and wrestled out of her shirt. "Just don't touch me."

There was no reply, nor was there any denial or promise either.

The cool air touched her skin and her bar, the cotton beneath her breasts felt hard and soiled with sweat. No doubt, she might be raw under there. She shivered and dropped the shirt onto the floor. Now what? He wanted the pants off too?

Soundwave reached out for her torso. She scooted back. "Don't touch me!"

Cool metal fingers curled around her and . . .nothing.

She stared wide-eyed as the tapered end of the device pressed against her skin above her left breast, over her heart. A dull throb emitted from the device as it recorded her heartbeat and then Soundwave released her and set the device aside.

Margery glanced around as if the answer to her question could be found in the room except from the giant before her. Then she had to ask, "Why didn't I receive any visions?"

And surprisingly, Soundwave answered, "Mental block."

Margery mulled them over for a second. "Are you mentally blocking me now or did you setup a mental block inside my head?"

Soundwave didn't answer her this time, but Rumble happily did. "He set one up while you were glitching. You can't use your function unless he takes it off."

He didn't get the response he may have been expecting. There was no anger or indignation at all. Margery's mouth dropped open in shock, then the corners of her mouth pulled up into a mad grin. Soundwave had managed to do the one thing she had wanted for most of her life. He had halted her clairvoyance.

She tentatively touched the floor with her bare fingertips and saw nothing. She felt a small, pressure in her mind, not in her head, but in her mind. Like weight leaning against a door. Her ability trying to work through the mental block, but it held strong and powerful, blocking the visions.

"Oh my God. . ." She whispered.

Soundwave caught her legs again and spun her on her bottom so her back was to him. He held another device in hand, this one with a wheel like part at the end. Margery tried to crane her neck to watch him, bit he firm held her shoulder with his fingers and kept her facing forward.

Something metallic and cool prodded the nape of her neck, swiping aside her dark tresses. The wheel part pressed against the nape of her neck, right beneath the ball at the back of her skull. It rolled down her back, following the line of her spine and down to right above the waistband of her pants.

Soundwave released her and set aside the tool. Margery rubbed the back of her neck where it had tickled her. She heard herself ask, "What's next?"

What was next was a much needed bath.

In the same workroom was a sink with no facet. It was filled to her waist with a warm clear liquid.

"It ain't water, so don't get thirsty." Rumble jabbed at her as she was lowered, naked, into the water.

She had hesitated at removing her clothes. It would be the very first time in ten years she had ever been in the nude before. Not that she had anything to be ashamed of. She was thin from having to carefully monitor how much she ate to keep from having to traverse into town so much for food.

And she wasn't uncomfortable being in the nude in front of two masculine robots, not at all . . .not at all.

She sat down in the cleanser, she had to tilt her head to keep her mouth above water. It was warm and it sooth the aches in her legs to the point that she could work the stiffness out of them without wincing in pain.

There was no soap or shampoo offered, but the cleanser seemed to do the job. She didn't see it, but she could feel the grime and sweat washing away from her skin and her hair squeaked clean. It felt really good, even though the water smell metallic blended in with alcohol.

Soundwave was recording his test results into a datapad from where she could see him and Rumble was staring at her in HORRIFIED fascination.

"Did you know I can see your spinal assemble and it's all bumpy?" Rumble piped from the edge of the sink where was three too tall for her to climb out on her own.

"That's my spinal chord." Margery replied dryly.

"It's so expose, like your endo-skeleton." Rumble pointed. "I can see it through your external structure!"

She guessed one could see her ribcage and maybe count her ribs. "So?"

"That makes you the ugliest thing I've been this side of Hexacon."

"Fuck you." Margery retorted and went back to soaking in the liquid.

However, Rumble wasn't willing to leave her alone that quickly. "Why don't you have those removed?"

"Get what removed?" She replied sullenly touching her hair.

"Those lumps on your chest."

"SHIT!" She reflexively crossed her arms over her breasts. "NO!"

"Those things just hang off your body like bags of flesh. How you can walk around with those things swinging from your chest is beyond me."

"Shut the fuck up!"

"You gonna come up here and make me?" Rumble sneered at her.

Margery stretched out an arm and rear back and threw up as much cleanser as high as she could. Some of it splattered Rumble's feet and he glared at her.

"I'm gonna come down there wring out the water in your carbon base hide!"

"What's stopping you?"

Soundwave stopped him. He appeared over the edge of the sink and reached in and collected Margery. She held onto his hand as she was lifted out of the water

She was set down on the counter where she was surprised to see new clothes and a towel, more like a drying cloth Transformer size. She didn't need to be told what to do. She eyed the clothes as she dried herself. They were several sizes too big, including the brown work boots she had to lace and tie very tightly to keep them on her feet. She wasn't sure why, maybe it was to make her comfortable or to match her old 'paintjob', but the clothes were black. Black stretch pants and black sweatshirt so wide at the collar that it constantly slipped off one shoulder.

Well, she was clean, dried, and clothed, what was next? Soundwave picked her up off the table and took her out of the room. Rumble followed from behind, levitating he was motherfucking superman.

She tried to keep up the direction Soundwave was taking her, but it was hard. Each turn look the same and each hallway looked like the one before. Even when they an elevated, she wasn't sure which way it went, up or down . . .it could have gone right or left, even diagonal for all she knew.

The elevator took them to yet another hallway. However, at the end of this hallway, Soundwave did something that shocked her.

He set her on the floor near his feet before the door. She stared up at him confused. She could run away again.

Soundwave shifted his foot near her, nearly trapping her between his leg and the door. Much like one would do to keep a wondering puppy or curious child from getting away or loose. He opened the door, which slid open with a loud hiss that startled her.

The door led open to the outside and the planet wide city of Cybertron. She peered outside with wide eyes and shivered. She suddenly didn't want to go outside at all.

Soundwave made no movement, but she could feel the icy cold look from him weight her down. Obviously, she was to go out first.

She had no choice, just like she had no choice over her clothes. She took the several steps that bore her outside and she looked around and felt very very small.

What was even more scary . . . was the knowledge that she was indeed very very small in this world. And very very helpless . . .and most dreadful of all that made her sick to her stomach was that she was very very dependent on Soundwave, on Decepticons in general and she knew that that was NOT a good thing for her.

Soundwave stepped around her, shutting the door behind him. He continued without ushering her to follow him or watching her. She stared after him and her legs moved on their own. She followed him. She practically scampered after his moving tree trunk legs.

They were walking across a square like place that made her think of a courtyard without the fountain and garden. There was benches or metallic structures that made her think of benches. Why were they walking? Why was he allowing her to walk on her own? She could run away if she . . .wanted . . .to . . .

Holy fucking shit, the goddamn bastard was making a point to her.

She was not on her home planet anymore. She was trap on a world of metal and night. She was out of her league . . .fuck . . .here she was on no league at all. If she wanted to survive in this world, she had no choice, but to rely on Soundwave or any Decepticon that became her caretaker. Now here she was, running after the fucker as if she was a damn kid toddling after a parent.

She halted in her tracks. No, she would not play this game. Fuck him. If he wanted her to follow him, then he better put her on a leash and drag her behind him. She wasn't going to follow.

She watched him move further ahead of her and waited. He was going to turn around and collect her. She knew it.

What did it matter if he got closer to the door that looked like it was their destination. He was going to either get her himself or have his lackey Rumble get her. Her eyes stayed on his retreating back.

He was opening the door. Surely, he was going to throw her a nasty look, bark at her to come here.

He stepped through and shut the door behind him.

She stared at the door stunned. "Son of a bitch . . ."

She waited. The door remained shut. He wasn't coming back for her. She was free . . .to do what, dammit? Wonder around like kicked dog in the yard? Starve to death?

Fuck it.

She ran forward, her legs ached in protest, but they were ignored as she crossed the space between her and the door. Her small fists pounded on it, creating a dull clanging that barely made an echo in the courtyard.

"Hey! You fuck! Open the fucking door!" She hollered.

She knelt to unlace a boot to throw at the seal, but the door flew open and Soundwave towered over her with a very satisfied look about his features. She had learned a lesson today.

Margery glared up at her giant caretaker and felt helpless rage bled across her spirit. Without looking at him, with whatever pride she had left intact, she walked into the hall to stand near his feet.

She felt like a dog standing near her master's heels.

She was allowed to walk on her own the rest of the way to the next room. This time it wasn't vacant like the last.

There was a giant robot here that she hadn't seen before. His paintjob was dark blue and green with silver framing. He was hunch over fiddling with something on a worktable. He lifted his head at the sounds of Soundwave's feet on the metal plated floor and Margery got a look at his optics.

One was the usual Decepticon red, while the other looked empty . . .no, not empty. It made her think of the inside of a telescope with a whorl for a scope. The whorl extended inward and decrease outward as it focused on them.

It focused on her and made her cringe. "Why I do believe I'm in love."

Shit damn fuck.

The mech hastily put away what he was working into subspace without taking his optics off her. "Is this the organic?"

"It is." Came the dull reply from her caretaker.

"I see. May I?" The mech waited for permission.

She heard nothing. Maybe Soundwave gave it with a nod or sent it telepathically, but the mech was reaching down for her.

"No, stop." She backed away, edging closer to Soundwave's ankles.

"Come, come, little one." The mech enclosed his hands around her and lifted her up. She had no choice, but to allow him to carry her over to a table in the center of the room. On the table was pile of pieces, small enough for her to hold in her hand.

He set her onto the tabletop, near the pile, but held onto her arm with nimble fingers. He summoned something from subspace that wasn't any bigger than his fingertip and pressed it against her left temple.

"Hey!"

Whatever it was, it stuck to her skin. She reached up to touch it. It was like a round disc and she pried at it only to have her hand lightly tapped away by a scolding metal finger.

" Uh, uh, uh." The mech scolded.

"Fuck you!" She groped her fingers around it rip it off only to have a sharp pain rip through her head. "FUCK!"

She clutched at her head and as quickly as it came, it passed. She lifted her head to see the mech moving around the table with a satisfied smirk on his lips.

"I see you learned that I am the only one that can remove that device." He told her softly. "Don't be afraid of it. It's only recording your brain stipulations and how it works."

Margery glared at him fiercely. "What the hell do you need to see my brain readout for?"

"To see how you think." The mech replied and pulled out a datapad and scanner from subspace. "Now my designation is Shuttershot. And I am a scientist currently serving the Decepticon Empire. Now be a good little dear and put together the puzzle for me."

Margery looked over to the pile of pieces. On closer inspection they were each small and gray of different shapes and sizes. There had to be over a thousand pieces in a pile that almost reached up to her hips.

"You gotta me kidding me." Margery murmured staring at the pile. "No, I'm not doing it."

"Pardon?" Shuttershot piped watching her. "Forgive, I don't know what to do."

He stepped closer to the table and his demeanor took on a stiffen and somewhat threatening tone. His pleasant smile didn't leave his face, but it didn't reach his optics. "I don't know what to do because usually little organic like yourself do as I say when I say. But I'm willing to find out what if you are?"

Margery knew she had tested her boundaries with him. Shuttershot may seem friendly and speak friendly enough, but he was willing to get mean and nasty if pushed. "Fine."

She stepped over to the pile and sat down. She began rummaging through the pile. She handled them with her bare hands and set them aside, not quite sure of how to start. This was the first time in a years that she was able to touch items with her bare hands and it felt strange and very awkward . . .and nice.

She felt a twinge of satisfaction when she fitted two pieces together. They snapped into place with each other and she held this in hand and tried piece by piece. After twenty minutes, she had managed to put together the square base of the puzzle. It was big enough for a large dog to curl up inside. It seemed that the puzzle wasn't going to be flat like most Earthen puzzles were.

Shuttershot watched her, taking notes in his datapad and checking his scanner's results. He murmured in Cybertronian, "Interesting. She's resistant to being a task she finds distasteful, but once she starts, she concentrates strongly on completing."

Margery looked up when she heard the foreign mechanically clicking and hissing overhead. Was that the Cybertronian language? Did and could Crash ever make such sounds?

Shuttershot caught her looking up at him and waved at her to continue. She furrowed her brows and was tempted to just take apart what she already accomplish and tell him to go fuck himself cause she was through playing Kindergarten student with him. Yet, the whim faded as reality settled in and she continued with the puzzle.

"Her emotional status shows anger, fear, and dread, but mostly anger." The scientist muttered interestedly.

Rumble, who had been perched on the edge of the table watching Margery struggle with the puzzle, looked up with a grin. "That ain't her angry. Wanna see her get angry?"

Before Shuttershot could reply, the Cassetticon turned to the human. "Hey, fleshie!"

Margery fitted two pieces together and twisted around to give him a glare. "What?"

"Your little cheap dwelling, in the woods, is no more." Rumble quipped with a wide smile on his face.

Margery stared at him as what he said slowly sunk in. "You better not be fuckin' talkin' about my trailer."

"Devestator picked it up and chucked it." Rumble taunted with an irritated swing in his stance.

She thought back to her trailer. Where all her clothes, her belongings, her DVDs, and her television had been kept. It was gone, all gone. They weren't much, but they had been hers. The trailer and everything inside it was everything she owned. All she had.

And Rumble's satisfied smirk did nothing to quell the bitter red hot fire that was spreading inside her. Shuttershot's optic ridges rose as his scanner results shifted and changed.

"You motherfucking, cock-suckin', sonuvbitch." She hissed and threw the pieces she had just put together at the insulting con. "Take that, bitch!"

It bounced harmlessly off his shoulder, but the grin didn't face. Not even when Margery hefted up the base of her puzzle and flung it. It only made halfway the distance between them and shattered apart on the tabletop. Before any of the smaller pieces, which would successfully cross the distance with the help of Margery's strong arm, Shuttershot intervened by loudly clearing his vocaliser and giving Margery the same hard look he had before,

She retrieved the broken parts of the puzzle base, but not without her anger going unheard. "Stupid, fucked up robots can't go anywhere without tearing shit up. Gotta tear up everything, fuck em . . .fuck 'em all to hell! Goddamn Decepticons can't go ANYWHERE without messing with people's shit. Tearing shit up! Raising gas prices! Fucking with everyone! Wanna fuck around with me when they . . ."

And on and on this went for almost three minutes before she settled down in a huff and worked on the puzzle.

Shuttershot recorded notes. "Temperamental, I see."

She was allowed to work unhindered or unmolested. The hour seemed to rush by as she concentrated on the puzzle. By the time she finished, she had pieced together an amazingly intricate building.

It reminded her of the Taj Mahal. Two tall towers on standing at both sides of a central building. The tower tops over reached her shoulders and she had had to stand to connect these pieces. It honestly looked like a power reactor of some sort.

Shuttershot was still taking notes. She waited, her eyes on him, hoping that she was making him uncomfortable. No such luck. He seemed at ease and took his time with the notes.

He lifted his face to her and ordered, "Now take it apart."

Her eyebrows rose. "Take it apart?"

"Yes, take it apart now."

She rolled her tongue inside her cheek. "Take it apart?"

"Third time: take it apart."

"Okay." She turned around and kicked the nearest tower.

It broke in half and would have fallen if she hadn't easily caught it and grasped it with both hands like a baseball bat. And like a baseball bat, she swung it. What had taken her an hour to build, it took her two minutes to undo. When she finished smashing it into bits, she snapped the tower she held over her knee and tossed it on the scattered parts.

"Very interesting." Shuttershot's reply came.

If Margery thought putting together the puzzle irritated her . . .

Shuttershot summoned a large white square with a stylus clipped to the edge. He placed it on the table three feet from her and the destroyed puzzle. "Now draw."

"What?"  
"Second time: draw."

"Goddammit! Am I in a fuckin' Kindergarten class or am I a goddamn 'Con slave?"

"Third time: draw." The last bit was drawn low and hard from the scientist's vocaliser.

"No." Margery emphasized her refusal by kicking the pad. It skidded across the metal tabletop and dropped over the edge.

There was a long tense silence. Margery felt the heavy weight of three pairs of optics on her and the tightening tension as the consequence of her action. As the tugging of regret and dread touched her, she filled the silence and continued on with her string of angry by raising her hand to her temple where upon the round device clung to her skin.

"I want this of . . .OW!" The tug resulted in a sharp strip of pain across her brain.

"This very very interesting." Shuttershot replied still recording notes and reading data. "Even to very simple requests she shows hostile resistance."

Margery swallowed a growing lump in her throat. She didn't want to be here. She didn't want to be here at all. She wanted to wake up inside her trailer, in her bed, and all of this be a nightmare.

The words, 'I want to go home', born and died in her throat. Her pride blocked her from begging, as did the knowledge that the words would gain her nothing. Soundwave had already shown her she was in his power, everything and anything that happened to her was his whim and it scared and infuriated her. The fury passed and in it's passing was fatigue.

"I don't want to do this anymore." The weak plea stroked the overwhelming invasion of apathy and power.

The doors hissed open, bringing her out of the depths and two mechs entered the lab; one tall and the other short.

The tall one made her think of the Seekers she had seen at the power plant, except he was of a different design. He was built heavier and taller with his helmet sloping backward from his face. His wings looked thicker and heavier and angled slightly more spread than the Seekers. He was mostly shades of gray with very bright pink optics.

The second one was short. A blue and gold mini-bot with a cresting helmet and he stood a little taller than Soundwave's knee; perhaps a bit taller than Bumblebee, but not much. He looked up at Margery with bright yellow eyes.

"This the specimen?" The mini-bot inquired as he approached the table.

Something flitted across Shuttershot's face plate when he spotted the mini-bot and she was certain that it was dislike. "Of course. Isn't she the only organic in your visuals?"

The mini-bot ignored the larger mech's sour tone and walked out of Margery's view as he got close to the table. The larger mech reached over to a metallic chair that was pushed again a work counter and slid it over to the table. There was shuffling sound as metal moved against metal and then the mini-bots head and upper body rose from the edge of the table.

He began pulling devices and tools from his subspace and the tool that caught Margery's attention and held it, was a rather long sharp looking syringe like device. The mini-bot did a quick check on his tools and once he was satisfied, he glanced up.

"Let's begin."

"FUCK NO!"


	27. Eventful part 2

"No need to be frightened." The mini-bot coaxed.

"Don't touch me." Margery snapped vehemently.

Shuttershot, she noticed, was standing a step back with a pleased look on his faceplate. His empty optic whorl widened allowing him to take in the show room while his normal one gleamed with pleasure. It seemed that he was liked that his colleague was having difficulties with the specimen.

The mini-bot turned to Soundwave who, during all this time, had been standing near the far wall silently like the reaper. "You've already taken her heart pulsing and optic interals? Along with the reading from her spinal column?"

Soundwave answered with a curt nod.

"I'll want to look at those later, but first . . ." He actually gave Margery a pleading look.

"Go to hell." She hissed.

She took a step back and her back hit the palm of a giant gray hand. She looked and saw the tall gray winged mech before he gently scooted her toward the mini-bot and his tools. She dig the soles of her boots into the metal, but they screeched and left black marks on the otherwise clean table.

Her arms were caught by the smaller mini-bot's metal hands. She twisted, yanking hard on her arms. She was no match. She was forced to sit on the table edge, her legs hanging off the edge.

"It's okay, be still, I'm not here to hurt you." The mini-bot tried soothingly.

"Let go! Goddammit!"

This continued for almost two full minutes until Margery grunted and forced herself to relaxed. They were going to do this, one way or another, they were going to do this to her with or without her consent. Her fighting would make it harder on her and it wouldn't stop the inevitable. Giving in will go easier for her in the long run.

"That's better." The mini-bot sighed greatly relieved.

The exam began. It played out pretty much as she remembered it as a normal doctor's exam. His cool metal fingers felt along her neck, ribs, and abdomen. She stayed still the best she could, but it was alien to her to be touched first, and secondly by alien hands. The blood test, she didn't like and she had been tempted to resist, but she rather it was taken by her own consent than her being held down and the needle shoved in anyway. After drawing the blood, the mini-bot sprayed some sort of sealant on the tiny puncture which felt cold.

"There, all done." The mini-bot, Triggerflex, she learned his name and his cohort's. Stormsaint, during the checkup. "That wasn't so bad now was it?"

He actually patted her knee, like someone might pat a dog to reassure it after getting a vaccination from the vet. She gave him a venomous look of which he ignored or chose not to react to.

She hoped that was all. That Soundwave would take her back to her cage so she could lay down for a while. God, how it sickened her to realize that she was actually HOPING to be taken back to her cage.

"She seems in perfect health, however, I daresay she's a bit underweight, but that could be from the sickness she suffered recently. She's better now, but make sure she refuels regularly. Other than that, she's fine."

Been a long time since she heard herself as being 'fine'.

"She's got nice face lines. Her facial endo-skeleton is nicely shaped. Amazing that it wasn't crafted by hands, but by inherited genetic makeup from her creators and time." Triggerflex brushed her hair from her face. She jerked away throwing off his hand in the process.

"You noticed that too?" Shuttershot replied dryly. "I daresay I find her limber structure and dark color scheme a bit more pleasing than compared to most organic's I've come across, however, she is far from pretty."

"Screw you." Margery muttered in a dark reply.

"And very temperamental also." Shuttershot finished off.

Triggerflex sighed and gave Margery one last pat before allowing her to scoot back onto the table and stand. She got warily to her feet and fixed the giant robots around her with a cool stare. Was this it? What else did these bots have in store for her?

Triggerflex threw his tools into subspace and hopped off the chair. "I believe that will be all for now. I will retire to our quarters and put together the data. I'll have it sent to you as soon as possible."

This was directed to Soundwave who acknowledged this with a short nod also.

Shuttershot stepped forward and gently removed the round disc from her temple. She twisted away once it was safely off her skin and shot him a dark look. Shuttershot placed the disc into subspace and ignored.

Soundwave, then, stepped forward with an indigo hand toward her.

Margery was stuck between backing away from his reaching hand or stepping forward to allow him to lift her up and carry her out of these scientists and their big gray bodyguard. She decided on the middle standpoint. She didn't step back nor did she step forward. She stayed where she was and Soundwave picked her up.

Instead of taking her back to the bedroom where her old cage was, he took her to a different room where her new cage was. The room was spacious and seemed a great deal nicer than the one they had occupied before. Instead of one room, it had three rooms.

There was the den like room where a mech could receive guests or enjoy a private drink. There was the bedroom where Margery's new cage was and there was a washroom, or what she considered was the room. It looked oddly like a bathroom, without the toilet.

Her new cage was bigger with some new additions. It held the same foam bed as before, but this time it came with quilts and thick blankets. It wasn't made, it was more like they were spread across the foam just to look neat. Her water container was there with no doubt filled with fresh water.

In the far corner, she noticed two metal containers. When Soundwave placed her inside the catch and shut the door, which automatically locked too when closed, she walked over to the metal boxes. She opened one lid and saw black clothes and shoes, most of them resembling the pants and sweatshirt she had on now. Did they knock off a Goth store?

The second box irritated her the most. Inside it were books, magazines, crossword puzzles, a pack of cards, sketch pads, board games, a CD player with headphones and CDs to go with it, and a hairbrush. She stared at the contents and shook her head.

"I got a fuckin' toybox."

She noticed something else in her corner of her eye. She twisted her head and stared in shocked. It was large, round, and big enough for her to do a cartwheel in. And it no doubt was able to freely spin if disturbed.

"You got me a goddamn wheelie thing?" Margery nearly shrieked. "What am I? A fucked up hamster?"

Rumble snickered outside her cage. "Hey, you asked for one, glitch."

* * *

For the rest of that day she slept. The next day, she tried to fill the boredom by baiting and exchanging insults with Rumble and Frenzy and working at her crossword puzzle and sleeping. The third day, she woke up and Soundwave was gone and in his place was the large gray mech, Stormsaint.

She at first didn't notice that Soundwave was gone nor was Rumble or any of the cassettes. Soundwave was usually putting together a report of some sort with a datapad or was silently communicating with his creations. She had spent an hour watching Ravage slink about the room like a fuckin' house cat.

She sat up on her foam bed after laying sleepily on it, which was her usual habit after waking up. She rubbed her eyes and yawned.

"Oh, you're awake. . . ."

Instead of seeing Soundwave at his usual spot at the desk, there Stormsaint sitting in his place with a datapad. He flipped it into subspace and watched her through the bars of her cage. "Soundwave said you have to bathe today."

"Where is he?" She inquired not moving.

"Gone. Hadda go back to Earth to workout something with Megatron." The gray being answered. "He'll be back soon though."

Margery was conflicted. She was glad that Soundwave was gone, but she wanted him to come back now. She knew Soundwave and his cassettes, she didn't know this gray stranger with pink optics. And she hated it. She hated it that she missed Soundwave already and wanted him here now. She hated him and feared him, yet here she was missing him like a child would miss her father at daycare.

Maybe he could read her face or he expected her to feel this way, she wasn't sure, but she heard him say, "Look, don't get upset. He'll be back soon, I promise."

"I'm not upset." She muttered.

She wanted to go home. The homesick feeling was coming back and it dragged at her like grief . . .but it was grief. It hurt and stung her soul to realize that she may never go back to Alabama, her trailer, and live her normal life. It wasn't much, with the clairvoyance, the drugs, the estrangement from the town, and hurting her Grandmother, but it had been home and she missed it.

She looked up the see the cage door being opened. "You want to walk around a little?"

She didn't answer. She swung her legs out of her bed and reached for her loose pants she had discarded on the floor the night before. . . or better yet, the time before she went to sleep. She had no since of time here. She had been stuck inside this room for the last two days and she had no clock or watch. She went to bed when she was tired and ate when she was hungry. For all she knew, it could 10:00 PM back in Alabama.

She stepped into the pants and pulled them up. She didn't worry about shoes, her thick woolen socks were enough. Maybe Transformers didn't care about temperature, or perhaps it was because Cybertron didn't rotate around a sun, but it was cold. Cold enough for her wear long pants and sleeves and tucked away under the thick blankets of her foam bed when she slept.

As she near the doorway of her cage, the gray mech reached out to lift her out. She swatted at the thick fingers. "I can get out myself!"

"Okay, okay, sorry, just trying to help ya." Stormsaint withdrew the offending hand.

Margery gave him a cool look before stepping out of the cage. The counter her cage was kept was cleared of any items and looked very clean. She wasn't sure whether it was that Soundwave was a clean mech or that he didn't want her to have anything to defend herself with.

She stood uneasily on the counter and stared at her temporary caretaker. He retook his seat at Soundwave's desk and watched her nervously. Margery tilted her head curiously. Why did he look nervous?

She took an unconscious step toward the edge.

"Hey! Stay away from the edge, you could hurt yourself!" Stormsaint admonished her. "Primus knows what'll happen to me if something happens to you."

So that was it. He was as nervous as the babysitter for the President's baby would be. She took a seat on the metal top and watched him and thought.

She could use this to her advantage. But do what? Go home? She was on another planet for God's sake. What? She was going to get a Cybertronian spaceship with a booster seat allowing her to reach the steering wheel?

Yet, if she stayed, then what? Was she going to live out her days living like a gerbil in a cage and being forced to go through divination whenever Megatron wanted to know his enemies' secrets? Fuck, for all she knew, she may not get to wait that long. They were performing tests on her now, how long before they decide to take a chance and dissect her brain? Like the greedy people cutting open the goose who laid the golden eggs?

The thought sent unwanted chills through her spine. She wanted to banish it, to cast it aside, to forget it, but she feared doing so. What if this was her only chance to escape? Or the closest to a chance she would ever get.

Soundwave had been vigilant, she was never allowed out of her cage without strict supervision and she wasn't allowed off the counter at all, though he did allow her to walk around on it . . .with Rumble or Frenzy close by. He was taking no chances with her since her last escape attempt.

Margery scooted forward to the edge to the alarm of her babysitter.

"Hey, wait! No! Stop!" He shot up out of his chair as she lowered her legs over the edge as if to attempt to jump down the short story down. "Wait, I'll put you down . . ."

She was gently seized about the waist and lowered to the floor at his feet. Stormsaint tried to pacify her. "Look, lemme get you something to eat. You can eat it on the floor if you want. Then you can go get a bath. . . ."

She headed for the door, cursing herself for not choosing to wear shoes or boots. Now she had nothing to throw at the door's seal. "Dammit."

"Hey, you can't go near the door. . . no . . ." No, he said in a low voice as a parent might say to a child committing mischief. "No, stay away from the door."

She heard his large feet clang against the floor behind her. She rushed forward and slapped her palms on the door.

_Open, please, please, open for me. Please._

What the hell was wrong with her? The door wasn't going to open for her. It was a giant sheet of cold uncaring metal keeping her inside. A barrier set up by Soundwave and Decepticons to keep her in, a heavy reminder of her small stature in the giant world she was taken to.

And the reminder was bitter, bitter medicine to be swallowed by a sore and parched throat hungering for hope instead. God, what was she going to do? They were going to do what they wanted with her and that was all there was to it. Die if she went and die if she didn't go.

She slapped the door again and a wail escaped her throat. Gray fingers caught her upper arms and shoulders and gently drew her backward from the damning gate.

"Look, shh, stop. Soundwave will be back soon, I promise and . . .no, no, no, Primus, please don't do that . . . "

She was choking. It was hard to breath, then she cough . . .no . . .she sobbed. Her nose suddenly felt stuffy and her eyes were getting wetter as she inhaled and exhaled deeply. Gray fingers ensnared her upper body and she twisted to free herself.

Stormsaint tightened his grip. He didn't like to kneel on the floor for this creature, but Soundwave had made it clear, anything happened to this human, it was gonna happen to him tenfold. "Stop, stop. Lemme get you something to eat. Wanna draw? I got the drawing pad from Shuttershot and he still wants you to draw for him. C'mon, you might like it, just draw and . . ."

"Shut up, get your hands offa me, and stop treatin' me like a goddamn kid!" She snarled and twisted hard enough to hurt her back.

He released her, drawing his hands back away from her. She scooted around his knee and stormed off toward Soundwave's desk. He watched her move past the chair legs and to the far corner where the edge of the desk met the corner of the room. She scooted herself into that corner and saw facing it, her back to him.

Stormsaint crept over to the desk and had to kneel and lean forward to see her. He reached a under out toward her. "Get over here."

She felt his fingertips brush at the small of her back and she tried to wedge herself further into the corner. "Leave me alone."

"Look, just come out from there. You don't have to draw, just take a bath and eat and I'll leave you alone. C'mon, ya gotta do those things anyway cause you're an organic."

Margery twisted her head and shoulders to give him a 'go to hell' look, but seeing the large gray Decepticon on his knees and reaching toward her like someone trying to retrieve a kitten from underneath a bed, made her tighten her lips to strangle a giggle.

"Wonderful, fine, fine, first you cry and then you laugh. At least you got variety. Yarians always screaming and throwing things, get over here." He snagged her elbow between two fingers and drew her across the floor.

Margery allow him to pull her out from beneath the desk. Her harsh fears were chased away by mirth and she coughed out a hard laugh as he picked her up with both hands and put her on the desk. The disgruntled Decepticon got to his feet, giving her a hard look.

The bath was fine, even better. Stormsaint filled the sink more than was needed with the water level up to her shoulders. She took this opportunity to swim for the first time since childhood. It was like having a warm small swimming pool to have fun in. Stormsaint watched over her for fear of leaving for an astrosecond and coming back to see her belly-up dead in the water.

He let her swim until she was tired and hungry enough to attempt to pull herself out. He lifted her out of the water and took her back to her cage to dry off and dress. Margery chose a XXL black sweatshirt, which she usually worse to sleep in, and just a pair of panties. She was feeling fatigued and thought she might go to sleep after she ate.

While she was sipping her soup, tomato, Stormsaint placed the sketch pad on the counter near her leg. "Shuttershot really wants you to draw something so . . . "

Margery simply reached over and swiped the sketchpad off the metal topping. It fell almost a story to the floor and rattled on the floor. Stormsaint put his hands on his hips. "You are the most spiteful and feistiest little thing since the time Triggerflex adopted that little Vixsov from Trafna. I do not understand why Soundwave hasn't squished you yet."

Margery responded with a shrug and finished up her small meal.

"You're spoiled rotten, you know that." Stormsaint stated.

"No, I'm pissed off." Margery countered. "See how you feel if giant sons of bitches from space come down and stomp the shit outta yer hometown and grab yer ass and take ya, unwillin', to their giant screw of a planet and toss yer ass into a cage and have some more fuckers poke and prod you. You ain't gonna be wearin' a smile either."

She ended her emphasis by throwing the can on the floor. It landed on the sketchpad and bounced off to roll across the floor.

Stormsaint's pink optics flared. "Okay, that's it. Get in your cage. You're staying in there until Soundwave comes back."

"Oh me oh my, I don't get no cookies." Margery sang as she got to her feet. "Papa Soundwave gonna take a belt ta me when 'e gets home."

Stormsaint ushered her into the cage and slammed the door shut. He bent down to scoop up the can and the sketchpad while she crawled into her nest of blanks and foam foundation. She went to sleep and when she woke up, Soundwave was back.


End file.
